Every Second
by entercreativename
Summary: Chase mysteriously falls ill and it is up to House to discover the cause. ChaseOther woman. HouseWilson friendship. Hypothesized history behind House and his team revealed.
1. Late Night Mayhem

_Every Second_

A House Fan-Fic

by - entercreativename

Disclaimer: I am not the creator or owner of the characters mentioned in this story. I am instead a poor college student with no money and no hope of ever earning money. I wrote this story as a means of exploring the characters in the show; not for profit, notoriety, or other self-assuring means.

Chapter 1 – Late Night Mayhem

Tick, tick, tick…

A man lay in bed where an alarm clock continued to drone on endlessly next to it. He was like any other man in appearance – common – with the exception of his limp and his cane. He could hide in any crowd. More specifically, he WANTED to hide in any crowd, especially if it meant that he could sleep. _If I had a penny for every second...,_ he thought as he carefully turned to hide the clock in the drawer of his bedside table. With one less sound out of the way he stared at the ceiling and the fan slowing revolving around in its endless life of circles. He closed his eyes and tried yet again.

He knew he wouldn't sleep tonight.

Tonight, like every other night, would be another sleepless night. The aged man slowly sat up, turned on the light, and maneuvered himself up in bed. No sense in wasting time lying there, especially since he had spent enough time in bed since _it_ happened. He opened the drawer to salvage the ticking time bomb that kept him from his task. 2:57 am. He had been lying in bed for almost two hours now without any chance at sleep.

What to do, what to do…

He took his phone from the bedside table; he knew he wanted to do it, just for some satisfaction.

Time to call his boss, Lisa Cuddy. _If I can't sleep, then the least I can do is make sure she can't either._

The man dialed the number and waited for seconds to tick by but to no avail. She was out, late. He'd have to remember this tomorrow and actually attend the required staff meeting. Perfect time to get after her, the "Dean of Medicine," about not being home on a work night.

The mind is a curious thing, especially the mind of Gregory House, MD. He had never been much of a sleeper, even before the infarction, or even college. As a child he would often annoy his parents by getting up in the middle of the night and playing piano. At first, he was reprimanded for it, then he got better, and then his parents learned to sleep through it. He enjoyed the piano; it gave him a chance to think. Often he would ponder his studies by sneaking into the Fine Arts Building late at night and playing piano. He chose to become a doctor while playing the piano. He fell in love with Stacy and decided he wanted to propose to her one sleepless night while playing piano.

Stacy.

He missed her; her scent, her laugh, her smile. Her – everything. Everything was all right in his life with Stacy. Then the infarction; he would never forgive her. After the infarction, he turned to his piano as a means to escape what little life he had left.

Tonight, was different though. Last night when he couldn't sleep he went to his piano to be surprised by a visit by Princeton's finest. _Damned neighbors_. This was the third time in the last week his neighbors had called the cops for breaking the "noise" ordinance. _Infernal idiots! Wouldn't know good music if…._ He'd get a digital piano, but acoustics were far better. Driving to the campus was out of the question too, especially with the snowstorm outside. So, he'd have to find something else to occupy his mind.

House sat at the edge of the bed staring at the phone. In the other room, he heard his pager buzz against the table it was sitting on; instinct told him to take his cane and check what the page was, however, his leg told him otherwise. He instead looked over through the open door and looked back at the phone in his hand.

Chase. He could be a fun person to prank at three am.

He picked up the phone, dialed the number, and a woman's voice answered on the other end, "Chase's phone, Lisa speaking." Tomorrow would be interesting.


	2. The Staff Meeting

_Every Second_

A House Fan-Fic

by - entercreativename

Disclaimer: I am not the creator or owner of the characters mentioned in this story. I am instead a poor college student with no moneyand no hope of ever earning money. I wrote this story as a means of exploring the characters in the show; not for profit, notoriety, or other self-assuring means.

Chapter 2 – The Staff Meeting

_Two hours until sunrise. _He looked out his door, still snow-covered. Piano wouldn't work. Cable was out, so there went his internet connection and any semblance of decent entertainment, not that there was anything on TV at 5:00 am. Since he tripped on his PlayStation last week and broke it, that was out too. _Might as well go to the office._ As he walked into the hospital, he saw a familiar face.

"Good morning Dr. Cuddy, you're here awfully early. How is your young lover today?" House yelled at his boss (that term was debatable in his mind) in the middle of the hallway.

"House, don't…"

"Hope you wore a rubber, our young Aussie has a habit of getting around. The clap you know."

"For your information…"

"It really wasn't that good? I know you'd say that."

Cuddy took the sleeve of House's jacket and lowered her voice. "For your information, I was over there... Why am I defending myself from you?"

"Promise I won't tell if you give me a week off from the clinic." _And cue the sad puppy-dog eyes. _

"I have a new case for you. You should be interested in it."

"What, the third party from your threesome got ill late last night?"

"No. Chase did. He called me about midnight and I took him to the ER. We don't know what it is. We did the usual workup last night, but can't find the cause. I saved you the trouble of staking out his apartment, couldn't find anything pertaining to his illness. Did your office too while I was at it."

House gave an invaded look as he took the file from Cuddy. She knew how to ignore his childish game.

"He called me around midnight and was crying. That's not like him, so I went over there. Depression, dehydration, fever…"

"Bacterial meningitis. Start him on Levaquin."

"Other symptoms don't fit. Edema, nausea, back pain…"

"Tumor?"

"No, MRI came back clear. Radiology is double-checking it. Protein markers came back negative, no cancer. He's comatose now."

House stood there for a moment speechless. This was one of his people, his team.

"He called you? He didn't go straight to the ER? Call 911?" House found it extremely odd that a trained doctor who dealt with rare medical cases on a regular basis would call his boss rather than calling an ambulance, or even notice that something was wrong sooner. "Page my team." Time to get serious here. One of his team members, the very first one he hired, was ill. There was no way other doctors in the hospital would figure this out. Air born? Blood born? Genetic? At this point in time no one knew.


	3. Questions

_Every Second_

A House Fan-Fic

by - entercreativename

Disclaimer: I am not the creator or owner of the characters mentioned in this story. I am instead a poor college student with no money and no hope of ever earning money. I wrote this story as a means of exploring the characters in the show; not for profit, notoriety, or other self-assuring means.

Chapter 3 - Questions

As he was early for work, as usual, he had time to wait for his minions to arrive. Well, one had already if you count being in a coma. He sat in his conference room at the whiteboard. _What caused this?_

Airway was open - the ventilator kept that going. He wasn't bleeding anywhere that he could tell. Cardiac. Normal sinus rhythms, a little light though, heart rate at 74. Blood pressure was a low - 99/48. Respiration was low after he lost consciousness.

_He was fine yesterday. _

Edema. Swelling of the legs. Kidney? Heart? Something wasn't filtering right.

_Why did this happen to him?_

Fever. His body was fighting something, but what?

_Why did this happen to a member of my team?_

Dehydration. Kidney. Heart. Alcohol.

_Why did this happen to one of my doctors?_

Too many laps at the Y?

He isn't like a doctor, he once betrayed him… 

There was a knock at the door. House looked up and saw his friend, James Wilson, standing there with a sympathetic look on his face. He looked old. It was obvious that though the years had not taken a toll on his friend physically, the previous night had. What did Julie do to Wilson now? House knew that Wilson was going to come in, so he looked back down at the lab work.

"Are you just going to keep working, or will you let me in?"

House motioned Wilson in and turned back to his papers.

"Don't keep pretending that this is just another patient. I know you well enough - this is effecting you, and you won't admit it."

House continued to keep looking at the papers in front of him.

"House, you can't keep doing this. Chase means something to all of us, even you."

House stopped for a moment, blinked, and went back to work.

"Let me at least share in the burden."

"Wilson, how can you tell that I am effected by this?"

"Other than your lack of sophomoric comments, and the fact that you took the case, or the fact that he was the first doctor you hired - your first student?"

"I GET IT!" House yelled at Wilson, annoyed. "I'm supposed to be affected by the fact that one of my doctors happens to be lying on a table DYING! You think I don't get it? You think that five years of Vicodin can hide this from my inner psyche? It doesn't. And yes, it is getting to me."

Wilson finally came into the office, closing the door behind him. He walked over to House's desk to collect the papers from him, to see what House had been seeing all these hours. "House, how long have you been here?"

House looked up at Wilson and then back to his papers. He just barely whispered, "Since four am."

"House, how much sleep did you get last night?"

House didn't respond.

"Okay Greg…"

Wilson, why the first name? 

"You know where I'll be if you do want some help, or to talk. Take care of yourself."

Wilson left as abruptly as he came. House didn't want to be bothered. At this point, all he wanted to do was to sink into the labwork in front of him, absorbing all the facts and figures into his brain, allowing him to see what was really at work. He continued to look at what was in front of him, and knew he was missing something.

Low blood pressure.

Should he really be affected? 

Depression.

_It could of happened to me. It DID happen to me._

Dehydration.

He had betrayed him once to Vogler to save himself. 

Coma.

_Chase was like his son._


	4. Senior Hi

_Every Second_

A House Fan-Fic

by - entercreativename

Disclaimer: I am not the creator or owner of the characters mentioned in this story. I am instead a poor college student with no money and no hope of ever earning money. I wrote this story as a means of exploring the characters in the show; not for profit, notoriety, or other self-assuring means.

Chapter 4 - Senior Hi

1989 was a slow year for Dr. Gregory House. After losing several research grants while in California, he decided that he had enough of the politics of medical research in America. He wrote a letter to the Dean of Medicine at UCLA and a week later was on a plane to Sydney, Australia. He had heard about some exciting research being done by a rheumatologist down under.

Shortly after arriving, House had decided that he could learn a lot here. Still a nephrologist, he made an appointment to meet this rheumatologist to try to join his team. Instead, he met Dr. Libby Sanford, an infectious disease specialist who worked with the famous rheumatologist in research. House met with Sanford on numerous occasions, each time learning more about the research that she and her partner worked on. House also learned that Sanford's partner was in residence at Oxford for a semester, so he would be unable to meet him. No loss however - the time he spent in Australia sealed House's fate of changing specialties to infectious disease.

It was two years later, when House had been working towards his second specialty, that he received a phone call from a random woman with an important message. The infamous rheumatologist, Dr. Rowan Chase, was in the area and wanted to meet House after he had heard good word about him from his partner Sanford. House cleared his schedule and later that night he was at dinner with both Drs. Chase and Sanford. It was a meeting he would never forget. House was so taken by the brilliance of this team, and their method of diagnostics, that he had to find out how they did what he did. As a nephrologist, he often relied on factual information gathered from test results, however, these two had something more than just that - they used _intuition_. It was rare for a scientist to rely on his or her instinct; it was even more rare for that instinct to be correct. However, match that instinct with knowledge and seasoned problem solving skills, and that suddenly became gold. It was at that meeting that House signed a contract for his fellowship under Dr. Rowan Chase to learn the art of diagnostics after completion of his residency in infectious disease.

Rowan Chase had a son named Robert who was interested in medicine. However, Robert didn't get along with Rowan, as Senior left Junior with his mother at a young age. One day however, a seventeen-year-old Robert suddenly appeared in an examination room in Sydney. The doctor assigned to the "case" happened to be a younger Gregory House. Though House was already cynical at that age, he still had enough heart left in him to hear the story of the boy.

"I don't know who you are, or why you are here _Doctor_, however, I do know that you work for my father."

House looked at the boy, "You are correct, _Robert_. Now,why exactly are you here? There's nothing physically wrong with you, so it must be something else."

"What's your name?"

"I'm just another doctor here to learn from your father. I'm practically anonymous."

"Yes, _Doctor._ But I know the game that my father plays, and I've played it long enough."

House stopped staring at the ceiling of the little room to look at this boy sitting in front of him. Game? What kind of a game could be going on? "So, why exactly _are_ you here?"

"My father has always played this game. Made his students assume if parts his personal life were important enough for him to pay attention to. Which, he shouldn't."

House looked back at this boy. He seemed to be wise for his years. Thinking, House asked "No one really gets a referral to your father unless it is through one of his students? This includes his family?"

"Yes."

House looked back down at the chart in his hand. He knew that he wanted to do what was right, however, he also knew that what was right could end badly for everyone.

"So, can I see him?"

House continued to contemplate.

"It's not like I'm going to be taking a lot of his time. I just want to see him, tell him Mom is gone. Tell him I miss him and that I want him in my life. He's my _father_. That has to mean something."

"Your _Father_ is extremely busy." House was agitated now. Normally, he was always in control of what was going on around him. Now, a seventeen year old both controlled him and suddenly reminded him of his own past.

"Please," the boy begged. Begging. No man or boy would degrade himself to the level that this one had.

"This is all that I ask. Just write a referral note for me so that I can see him. Use a fake name." House knew the boy was serious and would not leave.

"I just want to tell him…. Forget it. You're not going to do it. You're just like the other students of his. None of them had ever been brave enough to let me see him." Robert Chase got up and was about to leave when House told him to wait.

House left the room and walked down the hallway to another examination room. He knew that he shouldn't be doing this, Rowan had expressed that he did not want to be concerned with familial matters while at work. Work was his boss's family, not that kid that he left with that woman years before. However, House knew that he couldn't get rid of the kid that easily either. He knocked and Rowan Chase excused himself into the hall.

"Greg, what can I help you with?"

"I need a second opinion on a case. Seventeen-year-old Caucasian male complains of pain near his left shoulder. Referral to your clinic from family physician, and he's not agreeing with my diagnosis."

"What is your diagnosis?"

"It just looks like tendonitis to me. Could be something more serious, but he's insisting that I get another opinion, and from you specifically."

Rowan thought for a moment. He knew that he didn't have the time, and he had heard reports that a boy had been coming to the clinic recently to see him. His boy, his son. If

"Let me see."

"Sir, it would be better if you came and looked."

Rowan Chase knew that something was up. It was not like House to either ask him for help or hide facts from him. "I'll be down there in a couple of minutes."

That was the last day that House worked for Rowan Chase. After seeing the boy flee the exam room after a heated argument, he knew that it was better to leave the job than to stay on. _He's his son. How can he treat him like that?_

It is odd how life cycles itself. People look at a stranger and see an old friend from long ago. Insignificant memories suddenly become reality. People who you thought you could forget, suddenly come back into your life in a blaze of glory. Seven years had passed since that chance meeting in Sydney, and House had all but forgotten about the young Robert Chase.

Seven years later, House had just received authorization from the administration that allowed him to hire three fellows to work with him at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. He didn't really want to do so, but since the infarction, it had been harder to go about his job the way he had done so in the past. Gone were the days of running around the hospital and staying late looking at labs. Instead, his leg dictated the schedule, and his use of Vicodin increased. Nothing was controlling the pain anymore, and rather than quit his job, he realized that he would need to rely on others to help him out. And, it was a teaching hospital.

Three files lay before him. Two names he was completely unfamiliar with. Then there was the third - a Robert Chase. Was this the son of Rowan? If so, he knew whom to hire. House opened the file, and instantly recognized the son of his mentor. Interviews were merely a formality when he already knew whom he wanted on his team. Wilson even supported the hiring of Robert Chase. If the son were anything like the father, then the son would have to be hired. It was a risk House was willing to take.

Since the interview, House began to look at Chase differently. Instead of being another doctor, this was the son of his mentor. Now, the son looked to House as a father figure. What could House do but be a father back?

He had to save Chase.


	5. The Staff Meeting Redux

Every Second

A House Fan-Fic

entercreativename

disclaimer: I am not the creator or owner of the characters mentioned in this story. I am instead a poor college student with no money or no hope of money. I wrote this story as a means of exploring the characters in the show, not for profit, notoriety, or other self-assuring means.

Chapter 5 - The Staff Meeting Redux

A rustle of papers across the room suddenly jarred House from his quiet contemplation. It had been so long since he thought of his residency in Australia that thinking about it made it seem as if he was back there again. Simpler times. No loss of love to mourn, no infarction to be frustrated over.

"House, are you okay?" Cameron asked from the door to his office. "You were staring off into space and I knocked and…"

"Just peachy! What time is it?" House hadn't really heard her knock, and she knew it too. He knew he wasn't okay. If anything happened to anyone on his team, he knew it would affect him more than anyone would know.

"It's just past 8:15."

"Conference room."

He picked up the folder in front of him and followed Cameron into the conference room where Foreman was waiting for them. Judging by the disproving look on Foreman's face, Cameron had obviously drawn the short straw to get House from his office. Time for House to swallow his pride and pretend like this was any other case. As he approached the whiteboard, he noticed that three other doctors were about to join the trio in the conference room: Wilson, Cuddy, and the new assistant department head of psychiatry whose name escaped him. _Great, between the five of them, at least one will know that I'm weak, and it probably won't be the shrink._

"Glad to see we're _all_ here today and I assume that the two of you…" he motioned at Cameron and Foreman, "…got my page." Wilson and the shrink sat down; the shrink chose the seat in which Chase usually sat while Cuddy stood up behind her. Cuddy cleared her throat and looked at House to tell him that she wanted to say something. _And here goes my department._

"Everyone, I know that the next couple of days will be difficult…"

Foreman cut Cuddy off as he asked, "What exactly did you mean House by your page of 'The race has gone down? Conference room STAT?'" Cuddy gave Foreman and then House her proactive teacher's look that just said that House was in trouble.

"Well, I thought it was obvious," and it would have been had Cuddy and the _shrink_ not been in the room. His game was to put himself and his team at ease by lightening the situation with humor. Besides, Chase had the best doctors around to help him, they'd find what it was.

"House, your office, now!" Cuddy yelled at him and practically dragged him by his coat sleeve to privacy. "House, what did you send the two of them in that page?"

"Can't a guy have fun?" House responded as fast as he could. "You know, lighten up a serious situation?"

"One of _your_ doctors is in a coma! And I'm here, with help, to make sure that _you_ don't screw up or that anyone's mental state does that for them."

"By sending in a _shrink_? You call that help? You know I've never trusted that department. You might as well sit here and babysit us. Or get back Vogler, that would work even better." House wanted her gone. He wouldn't admit it, because he knew that eventually he would be right and solve this case, but having Cuddy and the chick from psych here just made him nervous. One false move, even though it would probably happen, would make the shrink go running back to Cuddy.

"House, it's hospital protocol to have someone from…"

"Protocol my ass."

"House…"

"You treated your handyman when he first fell off your roof."

"Because I was the only doctor around, and then he was transferred to your department. House, usually Chase would be assigned to a different department, the best we could find, but the department with the best success rate in this hospital is yours."

_Was that actually a compliment?_ House was definitely affected, but then again, everyone would be. He knew that his usual brand of humor would not help his boss in the current situation. He paused, closed his eyes for a moment and then said aloud, "At least let me tell them." She owed it to him to at least let him do that.

"No cynicism though. I know you."

They went back to the conference room where it was obvious that his underlings probably knew what was happening as Wilson and the shrink had been left in there to ramble with them. It wasn't fair; he kept seeing the boy Chase flash before his eyes years ago in Sydney. The abandonment in his eyes was enough to remind House of himself as a youth. But now was not the time to think about that.

Back in the conference room, House looked at his team and swallowed hard. "Last night, Dr. Cuddy received a phone call from Dr. Chase. He was distraught and obviously needed help. Dr. Cuddy went over to his apartment where he was suffering from a number of symptoms. She called for an ambulance and on the way over," it was too hard for him to continue. He closed his eyes and tried again. "And on the way over, he slipped into a coma."

Cuddy saw House was slipping from his usual detached state; however, he motioned to her that he wanted to continue.

"I know that it is rough…" he couldn't make eye contact with anyone. The ceiling would have to do. "I know it is rough for us to be going through this, however, as we are the most successful department, Dr. Cuddy has assigned us the case." It was too hard to continue. House looked back at Cuddy who took that as a cue to take over for him.

"Yes, as Dr. House said, Dr. Chase is in a coma, and we don't know why. Dr. Wilson has offered to help you sort through labs, and I will be available as well to help." Cuddy swallowed hard. By this point, House was seated on a stool next to the whiteboard. He could tell that this was affecting her more than anyone else. He wanted to be cynical; he had to be cynical so he could stay detached from the case. _This is just another case, just another patient with another microorganism that needs to be extinguished. _

House was suddenly jarred from his thoughts as the shrink stood up. "Thank you Dr. Cuddy for your introduction. My name is Dr. Linda Sanford and I am new to this hospital. Even though my specialty is psychiatry, I grew up with an interest in infectious disease. I will be available to each of you if you want to talk about what is happening. Even though my main department is psychiatry, I am also the crisis counselor for the staff members of this hospital."

_Linda Sanford?_ House suddenly sat up and remembered his experiences in Australia. Was this the daughter of Libby Sanford? She looked the right age, but her accent was wrong. He looked at her again, and suddenly, more things started to make sense in his life. _Cycles. Everything cycles._

The other people in the room made their general introductions and House suddenly realized that he was once again lost in though. He looked back up and followed the other doctors in meeting the new shrink, however, knowing the connection made him view her as a colleague. He also knew that precious time was being lost. He took Chase's chart in his hand and said, "People, precious time is being lost. We need to find what happened to Chase and fix it. We might be down by one member of our team, but with the help of Doctors Wilson, Cuddy, and Sanford, we'll get to the bottom of this."

"Symptoms people!"


	6. Circles

Every Second

A House Fan-Fic

entercreativename

author's note: I am not the creator or owner of the characters mentioned in this story. I am instead a poor college student with no money or no hope of money. I wrote this story as a means of exploring the characters in the show, not for profit, notoriety, or other self-assuring means.

Chapter 6 - Circles

House and two of his three underlings sat circled around the conference table in the room next to his office. Joining these regulars were two colleagues that he was familiar with, and a new one that he knew more by name than reputation. He had just asked the team in front of him to name off the symptoms of their missing colleague, Dr. Robert Chase.

Cuddy started off. "Patient first presented with severe acute-onset depression. He was also dehydrated and sweating. Low-grade fever of 99.4 degrees Fahrenheit. Blood pressure at arrival of ambulance was 99 over 43, pulse rate 96. Patient complained of vertigo which was secondary to the low blood pressure. Variable respiration rate. Patient slipped into coma in transit."

House summarized on the whiteboard as Cuddy rattled off the stats. Depression, dehydration, sweating. Low-grade fever, low blood pressure, high pulse rate. He stood back for a minute, there was a pattern already emerging, but there was also something else there. "Any medications we should know about?"

Cameron then spoke up. "None that we know of, however, it isn't like Chase to talk about his own medical history at work with us. He has been coughing a little lately, along with the dizziness. He's also had a headache - he asked me for some acetaminophen the other day."

"Add to that excessive tiredness," Foreman spoke up. "He finished the last of the coffee the other day and he usually only has one cup."

"And runny nose," Cameron chimed in again. "He used up my box of Kleenexes."

House looked at the board again: Low-grade fever, low blood pressure, high pulse rate. Depression, dehydration, sweating. Cough, headache, runny nose. With the exception of the low blood pressure and coma, it looked like Chase's diagnosis should be easy.

Wilson spoke up next, "It looks like he just has a cold, but a cold wouldn't cause this." House was glad Wilson didn't say what was on everyone's mind at that moment.

Cuddy then added, "Edema of the lower legs, ankles, feet, and hands. Labs aren't too good either. Creatinine levels are rising, but are thankfully still within the normal range. Actually, all blood tests came back normal, including WBCs."

House looked at the board. "The labs tell us something. What are they telling us?"

It was at this point that Chase would usually chime in. Instead, a very quiet Linda Sanford then spoke up. "Um, excuse me, but when were the last labs run?"

Everyone looked at her as the outsider to this circle that she seemed to be. Foreman looked at the chart and confirmed that it had only been an hour and a half and that Chase was stable.

Cuddy then spoke up again, "We've been unable to locate Chase's medical history in any area clinic, so we don't know anything from there."

Sanford spoke, "His father died of cancer this summer. His mother died when he was in high school. Liver failure secondary to alcoholism." Everyone looked at her. "He came to me to talk about his father's death in July."

House continued from Sanford's statement, "Depression could be from either psychological cause or physiological."

"Protein markers were negative for any cancer." Wilson added.

"Foreman and I would have noticed a difference in his personality." Cameron added.

Sanford continued in her high, naïve voice, "He was probably hiding it. He knew that it would effect his work."

Cameron, suddenly argumentative needed to confront this new rival. "Foreman and I would have noticed it when we met _outside_ of work, like we always did."

House looked at them. "You had a secret friendship club meeting without me?" And time to look hurt by them.

Foreman sighed. Now this was becoming more normal for them. A patient was ill, it was their job to find out what was wrong and fix it; House was almost back in his zone as he looked at the board in almost a trance.

"People, listen to me. The depression _has _to have a physiological cause. He barely knew his father, in fact, he resented him."

Cameron looked scorn. "You don't know that. How do you know his history with his father?"

House ignored Cameron and instead looked back at the board. There had to be more. He knew there was more, but he couldn't find out by just sitting there. "Wilson, you're with me at Chase's apartment. Cameron, Cuddy, go through this office and hospital looking for anything, especially anything he might have ingested. Foreman, you go with Sanford and examine Chase. Run any necessary tests. And recheck his kidney functions."

Foreman and Cameron looked confused.

"Do I have to repeat myself?" House glared at them. This was affecting him a lot more than any other patient would.

Foreman then had to ask the question, "Sir, I'm usually the one to go and check out a person's home. Why suddenly the interest."

Wilson was staring at Foreman, then shifted his gaze to House, "Yes House, why suddenly you and me?"

House knew the answer but couldn't say it out loud. He owed Chase the dignity of his privacy as much as possible. When the infarction happened, it seemed like everyone at the hospital made House's well-being their main concern. While it was nice to be appreciated, he instead wished that his doctors' and nurses' time was spent _fixing_ him, not visiting him. The only visitors he allowed in were Stacy and Wilson. Even his parents tried to visit him, but he wouldn't see them. All he wanted was privacy then, and he was sure that privacy is what Chase would want at this time as well.

Foreman brought House back from his thought when he restated Wilson's question, "Yes, House, why you and Wilson, and not me?"

House swallowed hard, "We at least owe Chase the dignity of his privacy. Now lets go people."

And with that, they were all off to their separate tasks.


	7. House Call

Every Second

A House Fan-Fic

entercreativename

author's note: I am not the creator or owner of the characters mentioned in this story. I am instead a poor college student with no money or no hope of money. I wrote this story as a means of exploring the characters in the show, not for profit, notoriety, or other self-assuring means.

Chapter 7 - House Call

"There's another reason you and I are here, isn't there House?" Wilson asked his friend and colleague as they pulled up to an apartment building.

"Yeah, so that you can help me up those steps, or will that make Julie jealous?"

"Shut up."

The two men, long-time friends, had always had that kind of relationship between them. They were best friends, nothing more, but on several occasions, nurses and former lovers often accused them of being more than just friends. Fact was, best friends were all that they were. House had stood up in every one of Wilson's marriages, and was sure he would stand up in even more once Wilson had the courage to break it off with Julie.

They got out of the car. The steps up to the building really wouldn't be fun for him, and House knew that his friend knew that. _Damned infarction. Damned doctors who knew NOTHING._ Good thing he popped an extra Vicodin as they left PPTH in Wilson's car, even though the main reason he took it was to take the edge off of Wilson's driving.

"So House, do you have the key to his apartment?"

_Dammit._ Many things and people were going to be condemned by the end of the day. He knew he forgot something when they left, but he didn't know what. He always sent Chase and Foreman on these missions because they had a kit to break into apartments. But since Foreman would slip up in there and wouldn't know what to look for, and for Chase's privacy, he decided to go with Wilson. Besides, he was Chase's boss; he was privy to the information that the apartment contained, not his underlings.

"Easy there. I know what you're thinking after all. How about you stay here while I find the building super and see if he'll let us in."

How could House have been so forgetful? It was never like him to let a small detail such as a key slip his mind, and yet it did. It was obvious that this was affecting him, but he didn't know where to go to ease his mind. He popped another Vicodin, grinding it between his teeth this time to get the hit from it that he needed to get through the next hour or so.

Wilson returned. "I couldn't find the super, but his neighbor has a spare key for most of the residents on this floor."

House looked at the mangy old woman wearing her slippers and housecoat, hair up in curlers. She smelled of cats. Lots of cats, and he could just picture her sitting on her couch watching daytime TV and feeding her cats. Probably had a name for each of them. He looked back at Wilson, "I'm telling Julie on you, you _naughty_ man!" She looked at him, took the key off her key ring, and handed it to House, grunting something about _Days of our Lives_ being on and she was missing Marlena's wedding.

Once they were in the apartment, House was struck by the odd feeling of confronting his past, yet he didn't know why. He looked around and felt as if he was back in Sydney at his residency. But then again, the essence of the son was much like the father. House often had the same feeling after parties at Rowan Chase's home when far too many people would drink far too much.

Wilson headed towards the kitchen, while House headed straight towards the bathroom. First place to check for medications, particularly one, but he wasn't entirely sure if it would be there.

House walked into the bathroom, noticing the cleanliness of it. It was as if Chase had barely used it. He knew that Chase hadn't hired a housekeeper; yet, he also knew that Chase wouldn't take the time from his social life to clean. Unless, his social life dictated that he did. He'd have to check the bedroom next.

House opened the medicine cabinet expecting to find something, but all he found were two toothbrushes, toothpaste, and a pack of condoms. He looked at the toothbrushes. One was blue, the other pink. Obviously he was involved with someone, but who could she be? The relationship was important enough that she spent time over here, yet, not important enough that she was at his bedside? It didn't make sense. He looked some more. No medications in the bathroom. His hamper was empty, and there were no used towels hanging on the bar. There were several clean towels in a basket near the shower, but the basket was full. A clean washcloth was on the edge of the tub. The soap and shampoo in the tub were new and untouched - the little soap fringes were still on it. He looked around the room - the only thing that was used was the box of Kleenexes and the wastepaper basket, which was filled half-way up with crumpled up tissues and a couple of used condoms. House looked closer and wondered, _Condoms for a man who wanted to become a priest?_

Years earlier in Australia, he had met the young Robert Chase. At that time, the boy was interested in medicine, and the power it had over people. However, he also viewed medicine as a toy of the Devil, luring good people away from God. The young Chase saw what medicine had done to his parents' marriage, and couldn't stand to see it happen to others. While the boy knew that medicine did help people, he believed that faith had more to do with it. Yet, people often lost their faith, and with the faith often went their ethics.

House, finished with the bathroom and went towards the bedroom. Clean. No clothes on the floor or anywhere else for that matter. Closet doors closed. Neutral art on neutral walls. Bedside table had a lamp, analog alarm clock, a couple of medical journals, and a bible. _Why the bible for a man who lost his faith?_ The bedspread was a little rumpled from being sat on. House headed towards the bed. The linens were freshly cleaned, as he could smell the fabric softener on them. He opened the drawer to the bedside table. Cell phone charger, phone book, breath mints, and more condoms. _He's getting more action than anyone else I know, including Julie._ There had to be medication somewhere, even if it was a bottle of Tylenol. He checked the other bedside table. Empty, and the top of it only had a matching lamp.

Nothing, there was nothing. There had to be a clue somewhere in this apartment. Wilson came in at that point and asked House, "Does something seem a little odd about his place to you?"

House looked back at Wilson. "Yeah, it's as if he never spends any time here, except to have sex."

"Yes, unlike _your_ apartment, it's actually clean."

House paused for a second. "Exactly, a clean apartment means that he doesn't spend his time here. He spends it somewhere else. There are two toothbrushes in the bathroom. You know that he doesn't use both of them." House sat down and popped another Vicodin. _Damned weather, damned leg._

Wilson saw House's most recent action and with concern came and sat next to House on the bed. "You know, we don't have to be here. I'm sure we can find his GP's chart and find what you are looking for on it."

House rubbed at his aching thigh and closed his eyes. The pain was exponentially worsening daily.

"Greg, are you okay?"

_Not the first name again._ House kept his eyes closed and breathed slowly. He had to get his mind back on the case, push away the pain and the lack of sleep.

"Greg?"

House, with his eyes closed inhaled, "I'm fine. It's just the weather."

"We'll stop by CVS on the way back and get you some ibuprofen. That will at least help a bit." Wilson had known House long enough to know that there were times when he was forced by his leg to stop for a moment, even though he hated to do so.

House swallowed the pain down, "What did you find in the kitchen and living room?"

"Nothing. It's as if he doesn't spend any time here. Did you find a picture of the girlfriend at all?"

"No, nothing. What about his answering machine?"

"There was nothing. I haven't been in his office yet though. There could be clues in there."

The two men, on account of House's leg, slowly made their way to Chase's home office. In it was a couple of bookcases full of books and journals, a desk, computer, printer, and phone. House sat down in the chair near the closest bookcase, closed his eyes, and rubbed his leg again.

"What am I looking for in here House?" Wilson knew that his friend was done for the day and needed sleep desperately.

"Medication, particularly anything for blood pressure."

"Are you serious? I've never seen reactions like his to a blood pressure medication. I'll look though."

"Also, check his computer for e-mails to any women. If the medication isn't here, then it would be at her place."

Wilson went to the desk and began to rummage through the nearly empty drawers. "Nothing in the desk." He saw House circle his hand in a gesture to tell him to move on. Wilson then turned on the computer to be met by the Windows Welcome screen asking for a password. "House, we need a password."

House stopped rubbing his leg for a moment. He didn't have a clue as to what the password would be. He could attempt to hack into the computer, but he also knew that Chase would outsmart him on that one. "You can stop there. We're not going to find anything here."

The men left the apartment empty handed and with more questions than when they arrived. Who was this woman that Chase was seeing? Why didn't she come and visit him? So many questions presented in front of them, and the only one who had the answers lie in a coma.


	8. Innuendo

Every Second 

A House Fan-Fic

entercreativename

author's note: I am not the creator or owner of the characters mentioned in this story. I am instead a poor college student with no money or no hope of money. I wrote this story as a means of exploring the characters in the show, not for profit, notoriety, or other self-assuring means. 

Chapter 8 - Innuendo 

"Okay, _what_ is this?" Cameron asked in disgust as Cuddy looked up from a smelly desk drawer in the Diagnostics conference room.

"I don't know, and I really don't think I _want_ to know!" Cuddy replied as she herself almost gagged on the mess that House had left in his desk.

Cameron had known Cuddy for about two years, and she often saw the older woman as her boss and her teacher. Other than in the clinic, it was on rare occasions that the two women ever spent time near each other. Unfortunately, it was an event such as this that had to bring them together as a team.

"That's it. I'm finished. There isn't possibly something within this office suite that could give us a _clue_ as to what could be causing this." Cameron exclaimed as she sunk into House's chair.

"You're actually _sitting _in his chair?" Cuddy looked stupefied.

"Not much else we can do right now anyway. Chase is stable, BP's improving. House and Wilson are still gone, and probably will be for at least another hour, knowing them. Foreman is running labs," Cameron replied, externally devoid of all emotion.

"Allison," Cuddy came over to Cameron like a mother to a wounded daughter, "Don't you want to at least _visit_ Chase? The two of you were involved last year, right?"

Sympathy. For the entire time that Allison Cameron had worked at PPTH, and ever since her husband's tragic death, she had been missing sympathy. Here, she had been a woman, one of the top women in her class for that matter, and she had to hide _all_ of her emotions. Unfortunately, she could not do it. She had been weak, vulnerable, and she was tired of not being able to cry. Cameron closed her eyes, suppressing tears, and said, "He befriended me when I was first hired. Showed me around the hospital and campus. Showed me the best spots to unwind after work," Cuddy smirked at that, "And was just a friend when I couldn't tolerate House. Why did you think we were involved?"

Cuddy sat down on a chair she pulled over from House's desk, "I guess I just _assumed_ the two of you were involved based solely on the friendship you developed with him."

Cameron broke down. Cuddy ran to House's desk and found the closest thing to tissue - toilet paper stolen from the men's room as a gag gift to Wilson that had been scribbled on - and handed her some. Cuddy at that point also realized that Cameron had hoped it would work out. Since her husband's death, she had been pining and concentrating on her career. When she got the job at PPTH, she knew she had to move on, and she ultimately saw Chase as that next step.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't cry Dr. Cuddy. But…"

"Listen, no apologies. It's rough. House and I were both department chairs for the last eight years until the promotion; surviving meetings with him… What am I saying? Surviving him is tough enough. Everyone made the same assumption about us when he started."

"Dr. Cuddy, what do you mean?"

"I was the one who had the final input in hiring House. I had heard good recommendations about him, especially from Chase's father and from Wilson. House happened to be in a bind at the time and had been out of work. I had read some journal articles that he contributed to and had wanted the hospital to hire him. Then one day, I received a phone call from Rowan Chase telling me that if he had any power in the decision that House would be hired. That sealed the deal. He spoke to the board of directors, and later that year House was hired. Unfortunately, the rumor spread, with the help of House of course, that I made sure he was hired for _other _reasons."

By this point, Cameron had stopped crying. Cuddy and House hadn't been together?

"Truth is, House had been in love with Stacy all along. He fled New Jersey for California because he couldn't stand to be near her without being with her. He then fled California for Australia because it was the furthest point away from Stacy. He fled Australia because he was too far away from Stacy; and some ethics thing with Rowan Chase, which Rowan later cleared House of. Then, when he was hired here, she was working for the hospital. She gave me the idea to hire him. He cost us some money in the legal department, she got after him about it, and the rest is history. One infarction later and he's an embittered, lonely man suffering from one second to the next of a broken heart."

Cameron just looked at Cuddy who was staring at a spot near the ceiling. Finally, Cameron broke Cuddy's trance by asking a simple question, "You loved him?"

"I just told myself that it was just a strong professional admiration. I told myself that he was just everything that I wanted to be but couldn't. In the process, I became more like him."

Cameron stared at Cuddy with shock and disbelief.

"You know, you'd feel better if you told me about you and Chase."

Cameron sighed and closed her eyes hard. She didn't really want to talk about it, but she also knew that she couldn't hide it in her anymore. It was good to finally be talking to someone who was like her, but that had survived. Even though Cameron had first gone into medicine to save her husband, and then to save others, she knew that she had to make professional goals for herself to survive the "Boy's Club" mentality that still existed with many of the doctors she would have to work with.

"The first couple of days that I worked for Dr. House, I would pretty much show up for work and end up sitting in that corner over there reading medical journals all day. House wouldn't speak a word to me or acknowledge me other than a few primitive glances. Well, I suspected what those glances meant, and later found out that I was right. However, Chase often sat over there at the table doing crossword puzzles and just being completely ignored by House. Then one day, Chase came over to me and asked me a question on his crossword puzzle. We started talking, and next thing you know we were at the Student Union having coffee." Cameron's eyes were no longer puffy from crying.

"He took me around town, campus, the hospital, and everywhere else. He told me how lonely it had been being the only fellow under House, and he was glad that someone else was finally hired, and that it wasn't another person like our boss. We spent a lot of time together, and then one night he was over at my place helping me rearrange furniture when I tripped on the rug and twisted my ankle. He picked up and carried me to the couch where he checked my ankle. He wanted to take me to the ER, but I wouldn't let him. I gave in to having him wrap my ankle and get some ice for me from my kitchen. When he came back, he had the ice all right." Cameron was now smiling and blushing for the first time in a long time. Her body language and gestures also told Cuddy that Chase had more than just ice.

Cuddy, relieved that her coworker was doing somewhat better finally asked, "What _else_ did he have?"

"He found the chocolate cake my mom baked as an apartment-warming gift when she visited. And he was carrying the bag of ice in one hand, and this big chocolate cake with two forks stuck into it half-hazardly in the other. He, he was just grinning and said, 'Look, I found our dinner! Dinner for two at Cameron's!' Together we finished the cake and both fell asleep on the couch watching TV.

"The next night, Chase came back and brought Chinese as we finished unpacking. We sat down on the couch, and we started talking, and one thing led to another and…"

Cameron stopped abruptly at that point and smiled a knowing smile at a random spot on the floor. It was obvious to Cuddy that Cameron had just gotten lost in a very intimate memory that should not be shared between coworkers. Cuddy got up from her chair, walked over to Cameron and rested a hand on her shoulder as she leaned down to the younger doctor and said, "Don't say anything. I'll leave you with your memory," and walked out, leaving the young doctor alone to ponder her thoughts.


	9. Territorial

Every Second 

A House Fan-Fic

entercreativename

author's note: I am not the creator or owner of the characters mentioned in this story. I am instead a poor college student with no money or no hope of money. I wrote this story as a means of exploring the characters in the show, not for profit, notoriety, or other self-assuring means.

Chapter 9 - Territorial 

"MY chair. OUT!"

Cameron was startled by the exclamation made by the silhouette of the man with the cane standing over her with an outstretched withered hand staring with cold blue eyes into her soul like death. She was actually more than startled; she was positively horrified beyond all reason and thought she was suddenly in her worst nightmare. The last thing Cameron remembered was telling Cuddy about Chase and then remembering _that_ day a year and a half ago. The day at her apartment. The day that made her worry when something was _late_ that month. She must have fallen asleep, dreaming in fact, because she felt as if she had been in bed, wrapped again in Chase's embrace a moment earlier.

"Did you _not_ hear me? MY CHAIR! OUT!"

With that Cameron jumped as fast as she could, practically broke down crying, and ran to the elevators as fast as she could.

House watched her run frantically. He was just joking with her. Huh. Women. House never would understand this group of people deemed by some to be the "fairer sex." Lust after them? Yes. Love them? He honestly didn't think there was really such a thing anymore. He sat down in his chair. Still warm. As he settled in, he noticed that Cameron had pushed some of the stuffing into different places than he was used to. _Women!_ He closed his eyes and popped another Vicodin. It was just as the buzz hit and he was about to drift away that another woman walked into his office.

"Dr. House, I wanted to pass Chase's newest labs along to you."

House sat up, eyes wide with anger for having been disturbed. In front of him stood an apparition from his past, or so he thought from the fog of sleepiness in his mind. He blinked and instead saw the young Linda Sanford standing in front of him. He glared at her and the way she held out the file to him, forcing him to take it at that moment with a determined expression on her face that would not give in to him. He could have fun. He blinked at her again and grunted, "Desk."

She looked confused. Was she too weak to play the game? He grunted at her again, "Desk."

She forced it into his lap and took a step back instead. House realized that he had just seen the true spirit of the daughter of one of his two mentors. She was feisty, just like her mother had been in Australia at the clinic and she would play the game her way, using passive-aggressiveness instead. House temporarily resigned to her game, more interested in playing the game that Chase's illness had presented in front of him. He opened the file and looked.

Not good.

"Dr. House, I know who you are."

House ignored her as he looked closer at the latest blood work pulled on Chase.

"From Australia. I remember seeing you at Mom's clinic."

The Chem-20 panel wasn't right.

"And, you were there the night Dad left. It was at the party. That was you, right?"

House stopped going through the papers Sanford had pushed at him and looked at Sanford. She looked just like her mother at that moment, when she was pushing for a diagnosis from House and he just couldn't get it. "Young doctor, we have a patient we need to attend to, not take time for a stroll down memory lane!"

_That oughta put her in her place._ She stood above him, taken aback. She had been meaning to confront House ever since she discovered that he worked at the same hospital as him a couple of weeks ago. She just never got the chance to do so. However, it was at this point that she thought it was best to try to get information from him that she needed. Something caused the breakup of her parents long ago, and she didn't know if it was the doctor that sat sprawled and old in the chair before her, or the genius that taught him his craft. She did know, it was ages ago at a party at her mother's house just outside of Sydney for potential supporters of the clinic. It was late, and she couldn't sleep. The young Robert Chase was in the spare bedroom next to her room asleep, so she couldn't pester him that night. Instead, she snuck to the top of the stairs and saw her mother and House, talking quietly into each other's ears, bodies close together. She knew that her mother had an affair with Rowan Chase, but had never been sure if that night she had seen something or not between her and House. She needed to know so she knew whom to blame for her father leaving.

"I said how long ago were the last set of labs taken?" House bore into her, apparently again even though she had been lost in her thoughts staring at him. His gaze at that moment struck her as cold and it made her feel like the most horrible person in the world at that moment.

"The labs were run twenty minutes apart from each other. The most current was taken about half an hour ago. Why?"

House stopped and looked at her to wonder why she had no clue about the problem in what she handed him. He held up the results of the two Chem-20 panels and threw them at her, "His creatinine level has shot through the roof! Why was I not informed…"

"But…"

"Get him on dialysis NOW!"

Sanford left, tears welling in her eyes. Women.

House closed his eyes again and tried to get back to where he was. Chase was stable, with the exception of his kidneys not being able to filter his blood normally. It _had_ to be some chemical he ingested, but the tox screens came back negative for anything they tested for. On a positive note however, Chase's blood pressure was back to normal; if it wasn't for the cloud of toxins circulating in his blood, choking his brain for normal oxygen, he would be awake. However, almost awake wasn't good enough for House.

Sanford meanwhile. She was something he would need to look into further. She knew Chase better than anyone else at that hospital. She grew up with him, knew his history - the same history that they were missing at the present moment. She would come back, he knew she would, and when she did he would be ready to talk to her. She obviously wanted to know more about him and her mother, and that would be a good opportunity to ask about her and Chase. _How everything moves in circles…_

He closed his eyes again in thought, humming _La Boheme_ in his mind. Then, another presence stood above him.

"_What_ did you say to her?"

House sat up abruptly, scorned for his lack of privacy and by the brutal tone of the woman's voice. What was it with people invading his office? "What? Who? The stripper that accidentally came here for Wilson's birthday?"

Cuddy closed her eyes, obviously annoyed with House's sophomoric sense of professionalism and lack of knowledge of proper social interaction. "Cameron. What did you say to her?"

House tried to answer, but was cut off.

"She's in my office. _Crying._ Do you have any idea the kind of harassment suit you have probably brought on to yourself just by _being_ yourself?"

House decided to let Cuddy keep talking. The longer she talked, the better retort he would have for her.

Instead, Cuddy just stared back.

He was in trouble.

"You know, I just told her that if she died her hair blonde and added a little extra to her funbags…"

"She wanted privacy, and was in your office trying to get that while _you _were out."

Just at that moment, Foreman walked in with Sanford following closely behind like a lost puppy following a kind stranger, eyes still puffy from crying. "Sir, we got Chase on dialysis and will run another Chem-20 in an hour."

House looked at the two doctors and replied, "Good."

Cuddy then started sharply at House again, "And just what did you say to Sanford?"

Foreman stopped and gave an aggressive look at him. Sanford stopped with her back to the trio of doctors, ready to cry again. House looked at them and said, "Sanford here knows Chase better than we all thought."

Everyone looked at Sanford as House continued, "She's the daughter of Libby Sanford, research partner of Rowan Chase, the father of Robert Chase. The two of them grew up together in Australia and probably even went to the same college and med school."

Cuddy's and Foreman's expressions softened while Sanford tightened her eyes and took a deep breath.

"She knows Chase's medical history better than his GP, if he even bothered to take one. Don't you see that she holds the key to this?"

Cuddy and Foreman stood in disbelief, Sanford still in shock at the fact that House had just ripped her to shreds in front of them.

"Every second that she refuses to give information on Chase's history is another second that Chase moves to death. He's dying Sanford, and if he does die, his death is on _your_ hands for withholding information from us that could save him."

Cuddy looked at the doctors in the room. "Foreman could you give the three of us a moment? Check on Chase."

Foreman shook his head in disbelief. He knew that there was something about her that made him question what she had to say while giving the exam to Chase. It was like she knew him better than any of them, and apparently she did.

When Foreman had left, the three doctors remained in House's office in an awkward battle of information. Sanford knowing she was in serious trouble. Cuddy knowing House might try his antics on either of them. And House knowing the situation was too grave to try to lighten.

"Linda, House, what is going on here?"

House started. "I worked with Sanford's mother and Chase's father in Australia. The young duo here has known each other for a _very _long time, and I suspect that they know each other better than any of us suspect."

Cuddy let House continue if he wanted, but he did not. "Linda, is this correct?"

Sanford stood motionless where she had been before, her back still turned to the other doctors. "Yes."

Cuddy waited again for House to say something, then started, "Why didn't you tell any of us?"

Sanford stood still, arms wrapped around her and eyes closed, thinking about her reply. "I didn't say anything, because the entire time that I've known Robert, he's been in perfect health. The only thing that I know he could have taken was coffee or Tylenol."

House started in, "You're history with Chase goes back quite a way, and you're being here in Princeton has something to do with him. How long have you two been together?"

She didn't want to answer, but knew that silence was the worst thing in this situation. "We had been like sibling since we first met, age ten. Then, he got the job here and left. I realized how much I missed him, and tried to get a job in the area as well. It wasn't until a couple of weeks ago that we realized we were more than friends."

House was about to speak when Cuddy cut in, "Dr. Sanford, three days suspension without pay, and stay near your pager so that we can contact you if we have to. As you probably already know, we will have to have a hearing with the board of directors to determine if you are able to stay with this hospital. Normally, you would not be allowed on hospital or university grounds, however, concerning your relevance to this case, the exception will be made with specific allowances by myself, Dr. House, or a member of the board of directors."

House was for once speechless. He wanted to say something, but after what Cuddy said, he knew he would only make matters worse for himself. He saw Cuddy pick up the phone and call security to escort Sanford out. Not really necessary on their part. Yet, there was something more there that he needed to find. "Why did he start seeing you?"

Cuddy glared at him, "House?"

House cut back at Cuddy, "She has information that _we_ need. Why are you letting her walk away when all she is the key to Chase's illness?"

Cuddy said something into the phone and put the receiver down. "Linda, answer any question that Dr. House might have for you. Dr. House, play nice."

House knew that the use of his formal title with his name, and lack of one with Sanford's name meant that it was time to take on the administrative role with Cuddy. He got up and motioned for Sanford to sit down. She was about to take the chair he just vacated when he motioned for her to take the hard metal one across from his desk. She sat down.

House looked at her and popped yet another Vicodin. The day was the longest one he had gone through in a long time, and his leg was arguing with him every moment. The last thing he wanted was to play games with a mere _child_ that sat in front of him. He and Cuddy both knew that a _normal_ doctor in her late twenties would not play games, however, the fact that she knew more than she originally let on meant that she was not normal.

House looked at her for a moment. Her eyes showed fear as he studied her: her presence, posture, body language, even where her eyes were looking. He then said to Cuddy while looking into Sanford's eyes, "Page my team and Wilson. We have a meeting to attend."

Cuddy obeyed as House motioned Sanford to move to the conference room. House knew he wouldn't get a moment's peace tonight.


	10. Interrogation

Every Second

A House Fan-Fic

entercreativename

author's note: I am not the creator or owner of the characters mentioned in this story. I am instead a poor college student with no money or no hope of money. I wrote this story as a means of exploring the characters in the show, not for profit, notoriety, or other self-assuring means.

Chapter 10 - Interrogation

House, Foreman, Wilson, Cameron, and Cuddy sat around the Diagnostics conference room table with House at one end. Across from the department chair, sat Linda Sanford, recently suspended from the hospital payroll for disciplinary reasons. Stacy came in and took a seat to the immediate right of Sanford while Cuddy set up a tape recorder for later purposes.

Stacy leaned over to Sanford and whispered something. _Great, my ex is here to defend the dimwit who thought that she was helping by HIDING the knowledge of a relationship._ House scowled at Stacy as he began, "Most of you know why we are here, and not taking this time to _treat_ our latest patient for the condition that he is in," he scowled at Sanford. "For those of you who don't know why we are here, you're about to find out. The woman sitting at the end of the table is not the psychiatrist we all know and love, but instead the childhood friend of our _dearly beloved_ Robert Chase." _Damn. I'm off. That didn't come out right at all._ House then noticed Foreman's look.

"What?" Foreman practically yelled while Cameron looked confused. Wilson knew House was onto something and was just waiting for him to play out the game.

House looked at the group in front of him. "Let me recap where we were. Chase is in a coma. BP was low, but it's coming up. Kidney function _was_ normal, but I don't know, you'd have to ask a _nephrologist_," House glared at the other doctors in his presence, "but that's kinda going up too. Now, normally things going up are good, but seems that last I checked, the numbers in a Chem-20 panel going up were _not_ good. Of course, I'm just the infectious disease slash nephrology slash diagnostics department head guy."

Cuddy and Stacy both shot him glances that could kill. Foreman and Cameron were scared; they had never seen him this angry before. Wilson just knew to keep out of the way. Sanford sat across from House, receiving his full glare but not acknowledging it. Instead, she was staring at the edge of the table in front of her, feeling her heart beat in her throat and knowing that she was in trouble. It had only been her luck that Stacy had stopped to yell at House as he was prodding her into the conference room with his cane. Stacy asked what was going on, and House told her.

It was going to be a long night for all.

House looked at his team, already feeling the effects of the long day, hoping that he would have been in bed by this point. With no end in site, all he could do was get the information from Sanford that he needed to help Chase. He looked at Sanford, glared, and asked, "What do you know about Chase?"

Sanford swallowed hard and said, "Nothing. He's been in perfect health that I know of. He was a little stressed throughout college and med school, but who wasn't."

Stress, that word triggered something in House's mind. He thought for a moment, "What kind of stress?"

Sanford had all she could do to keep from throwing up under the pressure. "Just lack of sleep really, and he had a hard time eating. Sometimes, he would get exerted easily, and some headaches. Nothing else really."

House looked at her and thought. _Stress, headaches. _"When was he diagnosed with hypertension?"

The other doctors in the room looked confused. They all knew House was onto something, but they didn't know how he came to that theory. Foreman interrupted, "Sir, we don't have any indication…"

"Yes we do Foreman; his blood pressure was low when he came in. His symptoms that presented before the coma indicated side effects of an ace inhibitor. He had been under stress. Why haven't any of you seen it yet!" House was frustrated at the doctors in front of him. They had all gone to med school, yet, none of them were able to recognize such a normal disease? He might be in the specialties he's in, but this was basic general practitioner work he had just done.

House noticed that a couple of them had just understood what he was saying. Cuddy and Cameron looked as if they were thinking. Wilson was taken aback thinking about the way House's mind worked; he had really only come to help make sure his friend wouldn't lose it.

It was then that Sanford spoke, "Chase and I are friends. We slipped a little into the territory of dating, but that was it. I didn't know the intimate details of his life, like which vitamins he took, or who his doctor is, just like he didn't know mine."

House gave her a look that would kill.

Sanford continued, "What I'm trying to say is, even though we're good friends, I didn't know of any medical conditions that would be affecting him right now or that could have caused this. Do you think I would have withheld something that would have helped? I'm just as concerned for him as the rest of you." She paused for a moment as she suddenly remembered his headaches he had in college. She looked at Foreman and Cameron and asked, "His headaches. Has he had any recently?"

Cameron and Foreman looked at each other and then Cameron spoke up, "Yes, he has. I mentioned it this morning."

Sanford, suddenly looking like her mother again to House, spoke up, "Yes, but how often has he had these headaches?"

House was amazed at the young Sanford's ability to transform. It was only time until the young woman became as good a doctor as her mother. The look of thought and determination filled her face, and House knew that she was onto something. He stopped and thought along with Foreman and Cameron. He had noticed that Chase was trying to hide something from him and the rest of them at times, yet he just chalked it up to the aftermath from him about Vogler.

He had been wrong.

Cameron spoke up, "The headaches had been returning recently. He used to have them when I was first hired, and then they went away after he took a day off. These were different headaches though, they had different causes."

House spoke up next, "No they didn't. People don't you see? The headaches he had earlier in the past were because of high blood pressure. The headaches he's had recently are side effects. It fits!" He stood up, cane in hand and limped to the whiteboard. House pointed at the symptoms listed there, "These are all connected to side effects of an ace inhibitor. But we don't know which!"

The other doctors in the room looked at each other for other possible ideas. Cuddy looked at Foreman and Cameron and asked, "What are his vitals at?"

Foreman spoke first, "Heart rate is at 84, and BP is back down; 88/43. Breathing is being regulated by ventilator. Temp 99.7."

Cuddy then asked, "What were his last labs like?"

Cameron responded, "Elevated levels of creatinine in the blood. Number is going down thanks to the dialysis, but they're still high."

House, who was now leaning against the whiteboard with his back to the rest of the group, closed his eyes, "How high is high?"

Cameron looked at the file in front of her, "2.8 milligrams per deciliter."

_Shit_. House furrowed his brow. _Twice as high as it should be_. "What is the uric acid at?"

Cameron looked again at the results of the latest Chem-20, "14.8 milligrams per deciliter."

_Uric acid's also twice as high._ House asked Cameron, "What were they at?"

Cameron looked, "3.2 and 18.4 respectively."

If House were a better man, he would have looked at the bright side and noticed that the dialysis was having an effect. Unfortunately, not enough of an effect. They could either ride this out, allowing the dialysis to help the kidneys, or keep searching. Most doctors would choose to ride it out, wait, and be safe. House wasn't most doctors. He still needed to know whom Chase was actually dating to find what prescription he had been taking. Once he found out, he would know what to switch Chase to. The search of area doctors that had treated Chase had come up empty, and the search of area pharmacies that had filled Chase's prescription drew more questions than answers.

House's mind stopped wandering. It was late, and the doctors in front of him were all showing signs of fatigue. Cuddy, Wilson, and himself were no longer in their twenties and he knew he needed sleep. There wasn't anything they could do that night anymore that couldn't be put off until tomorrow. "Go home everyone, we'll meet back here again tomorrow morning."

With that, everyone got up. Cuddy went over Sanford and withdrew the suspension; it was obvious that the younger woman hadn't concealed as much as House made it seem she did. Stacy talked for a moment to Sanford. Cameron and Foreman rushed out of the office, hoping that House wouldn't change his mind. House sat down at the table again, this time next to Wilson.

Wilson looked at House. "You're staying?"

House looked back, tired and wanting to leave, "Yes." He sighed and thought. _What I wouldn't give for a good night's sleep for once. _Then, Cuddy's glare caught his attention. _Leave me alone; I don't want to be bothered._ House then realized that Wilson was talking with her. _Great, probably telling her that my leg hurt too much today to spend the night._ She was walking over and Wilson then left. House was suddenly left alone with Cuddy in the office suite; alone with the overnight nurses and few residents on call.

"House, you said it yourself, there's nothing we can do tonight."

He didn't want her around, all he wanted to do was scare her away and wallow over Chase's illness alone in his office. At least his office was a refuge, especially at night. The overnight nurses were generally too scared or crazy to deal with House, and the interns were pansies. That left the residents who were too concerned with getting sleep than to deal with the department chairs who camped out in their offices.

"I can think of plenty of things we can do tonight, but you'll have to put on some leather first. Oh, and get some of those special condoms from Wilson, you know, the ones with the antibiotics in them from the drug rep."

"House, go home."

"So you're suddenly inviting yourself over? I don't think that would go too well with Wilson."

"House, I'll take the night watch. Go home, sleep. Wilson and I both know you're best when you're not here." With that, Cuddy walked out of the conference room and House was left alone to his thoughts. The hospital was quiet that night, some of the lights from the hall turned off for energy conservation. Visitors had long since gone, and the campus around him slept. It was time for him to go home and attempt the same.

He got up, took up his belongings, turned off the lights, and left.

May sweet sleep come at last.


	11. Code

_Every Second_

A House Fan-Fic

by - entercreativename

Disclaimer: I am not the creator or owner of the characters mentioned in this story. I am instead a poor college student with no money and no hope of ever earning money. I wrote this story as a means of exploring the characters in the show; not for profit, notoriety, or other self-assuring means.

This histories in this story were written before episode 204 (TB or Not TB) and therefore will differ from episodes aired in November 2005 and later.

Keep those reviews coming in too! I'm working on ideas for another fic, and I need your help on grammer and development.

* * *

Chapter 11 - Code

House was just settling into his favorite spot on the couch, the one where the remote could just stay in his hand, when there was a knock at the door. He pulled the blanket strewn on the back of the couch over him and started to flip through the channels again. He had had a very long day and all he wanted to do was to curl up on the couch - not that his leg would let him do any curling, but the extra Vicodin he popped when he got home would.

The knock on the door repeated itself. He looked over at the door and how far away it was. He was warm, and for the first time in a long time comfortable. His buzz from the scotch he downed with the Vicodin earlier had made him sleepy, and he was ready to sleep. He closed his eyes and then heard the sound of a key working the lock open.

Wilson.

He knew he would one day regret agreeing to give Wilson a key to his apartment. It finally gave into his friend late one day a couple of years after Stacy had left. Wilson had been worried that House would do something stupid and be left for his landlord to find at the beginning of the month when rent was due and a foul smell was emitting from the flat.

"House, are you awake?"

_Stupid question._ If he were awake, he would naturally respond. If he weren't awake, the sound from someone asking the question would wake him up, thereby allowing him to be awake and respond. He snorted in response to Wilson's query.

"I'm not interrupting you, am I?"

_Another stupid question_. House sighed and regretfully opened his eyes to the jarring presence of reality. He figured this response was enough to let Wilson know to go away, however, Wilson kept approaching him. He sat up, sighed, and asked, "What brought you here? Julie, or me?"

"Both actually. She isn't home yet, and quite frankly, I don't want to be there when she does. Get home, that is." Wilson sat down on the arm of the couch on the opposite end where House was huddled under the blanket. "How are you doing?"

House glared. Wasn't it obvious that just _maybe_ House was ready to sleep? Didn't Wilson remember that doctors tend to _value_ what little sleep they could afford during a difficult case? A case. Was that all Chase was? A case? Before med school, he still thought of patients as people. Med school changes you, hardens you the same way years in prison would. Most people often saw doctors as saints, saving loved ones from the grips of death. Instead, doctors, especially ones like House, saw themselves as people who had given too much of their lives for people they barely knew. They spend their time in med school ruining relationships so they can study. Residencies and internships are spent trying to sleep. Then, one day after finally finishing, you step back and realize what you've actually become. Some people refer to it as maturity; others realize it's a loss of innocence and understanding. The patient is no longer a person who needs your help, but the enemy keeping you from what you want to really do.

Sleep.

Wilson looked down at House who had closed his eyes again, wanting to sleep but couldn't as he knew Wilson would not leave without pushing whatever point he had come there to push.

"Wilson, why are you _really_ here?" _Enough of this! Let me sleep!_

Wilson looked down at House, "Are you okay?"

"I'd be better if I could actually get some _sleep_!"

"No sarcasm, no cynicism. How are you doing?"

"What is everyone's sudden concern today about me? Is this 'national care for the cripple day?'"

"No, but it is 'national my best friend's coworker is in a coma and I actually give a crap day.'"

House closed his eyes and thought for a moment. How _was_ he doing? He learned early in his career to be objective. Then, he learned how not to give a damn. Unfortunately, it was different when the patient was like your son, and you were the only one who could really save him. That is, if you could find what medication he had been taking. He wanted to talk. "I need to know what Chase has been taking."

"Okay. How?"

"We searched his apartment and came up empty handed. Searched the office, empty handed as well. The only place left is his girlfriend's place, and his car. Problem is, we don't know who his girlfriend is. Other problem is, we don't know where his car is."

"I asked how you were doing and you start discussing the case? This isn't like you."

Wilson was right and House knew it. He cared, and because he cared, he lost his objectivity. Had he not cared about the patient, he would have tried different therapies by now. However, he was reluctant. He did not want to harm the son of the man he admired most; he did not want to harm the boy who grew up to be his student.

"You're right Wilson. For once, I cannot do this. If it were any other doctor in the hospital, it would be different. Cameron? I would want to save the investment I made in her. Foreman? Well, I need someone who can break into any lock. Chase? I see myself in him, and that's a problem."

House stopped talking and Wilson waited for him to list other doctors. When House listed none, Wilson asked, "What, I'm not a doctor at the hospital?"

"You're a doctor, but not one I'd want under my care?"

"Why? Afraid?"

House considered the dare in Wilson's voice. He would be afraid if it were his friend who was in his care. If he harmed him by some means of malpractice, then he wouldn't be able to continue without massive quantities of Vicodin and alcohol in his system. He had to think quickly before Wilson could sense the pause in conversation: "No, you'd complain too much."

Wilson laughed; House being witty was a good sign. However, Wilson also knew that if something happened to Chase, House would change. House couldn't take another emotional hit in his life. Stacy had done enough to House, and vice versa. Should something happen to his friend, he could see that man go on a path of self-destruction that would take more than one life. House's mental state at the moment was just barely stable, and the smallest thing could put him over the edge. That's why Wilson was at his friend's apartment and would not leave unless there was an emergency.

House however, just wanted to sleep. He got up off the couch, grabbed his bottle of Vicodin, and walked toward his bedroom grunting something inaudible under his breath to Wilson. Another night on the couch at his friend's place. Wilson looked down at the table and saw House's pager; he would have handed it to him, but at the same time, he wanted to protect his friend. This had been affecting House more than he would ever let on.

It was about 3:30 when Wilson heard a pager go off, he looked over and saw his pager glowing with the cold electronic glow of technology; he was surprised to see that Cuddy had paged him concerning Chase. Wilson fumbled through House's living room to the phone to respond when he tripped and then heard House rouse out of sleep. _Great. He's going to wake up, find out, and have a nervous breakdown._ Wilson was thankful that, Cuddy had the same sense about paging Wilson instead of House about an emergency; apparently Cuddy also realized that Wilson would be able to get through to House easier than anyone else with any news.

Wilson finally found the phone and called the hospital to see what was going on.

"Lisa, it's James. What happened?"

"It's Chase; his vitals dropped and he coded. We resuscitated him, but until we find what has caused the coma and other problems, it will continue to be touch and go. There's no way to stabilize him. We have to find what he took."

Wilson paused for a moment. He was the one nominated to be the bearer of bad news to House; thankfully, Chase was still technically alive, but just barely. He cleared his throat and said into the receiver, "Thank you Lisa, I'll tell House." Wilson paused for a moment to consider adding anything else, "Is there anything I can do there?"

"I was hoping you could come in. I know it's early, but we need to talk. We have to discuss what to do for House should anything more happen. We have Chase stabilized, but I don't know for how long. He could go either way, and it will take House with. I know you're as worried about House as I am."

"I am."

"And I get the feeling you're over there right now."

Wilson smiled. Cuddy would never admit it, but she knew Wilson and House better than anyone else at the hospital. "Lisa, how did you know?"

"Call it a hunch."

Wilson smiled again. "I'll be there shortly."

Today would be another long day.


	12. Between Friends

_Every Second_

A House Fan-Fic

by - entercreativename

Disclaimer: I am not the creator or owner of the characters mentioned in this story. I am instead a poor college student with no money and no hope of ever earning money. I wrote this story as a means of exploring the characters in the show; not for profit, notoriety, or other self-assuring means.

This histories in this story were written before episode 204 (TB or Not TB) and therefore will differ from episodes aired in November 2005 and later.

Keep those reviews coming in too! I'm working on ideas for another fic, and I need your help on grammer and development.

* * *

Chapter 12 - Between Friends

Wilson stood up from House's couch, exhausted and knowing the feeling would only grow worse. He had just gotten off the phone with his boss who had called him about her concern for his best friend. He was worried about House too; Wilson knew House wouldn't be able to handle yet another loss or disappointment in his life. He found his wallet and keys and was out the door.

He arrived at the hospital and went to Cuddy's office. It was obvious that she had been having a tough nigh. She wore no make-up and her hair was pulled back into a bun, still wet from a recent shower. She sat at her desk with her eyes closed, deep in thought and on the verge of sleep. Wilson noticed that she was actually wearing scrubs, her signature of wanting to be released from some troubling event. Wilson hadn't seen her look like this since he was first hired on at the hospital over ten years earlier. Her role as an administrator, conqueror of the minions below her, pushed her into masculine boardroom suits. He knew that she now reserved scrubs for nights where she could no longer handle life and where she just wanted to hide in the clinical facts of being a doctor.

Wilson quietly opened the door to Cuddy's office as she stirred from her mind.

"Thank you for coming James." Her eyes were red and swollen from tears. This had been a bad night.

"Of course Lisa." He took a seat on the couch, she on the opposite end.

"James, we need to talk about House. I," tears were welling up again in her eyes, "…I don't know what to do. I don't think Chase will make it through the night."

James looked at her. She was sleep deprived and uncomfortable. He remembered her as the doctor that she was when he was hired, young and outspoken, brash and arrogant. She had a spirit that could not contain her. He smiled, "How is Chase doing?"

Cuddy sniffed and wiped away some tears that had crept into her eyes again. "Labs have tanked. Dialysis is helping a bit, but it's not keeping up. If his condition doesn't improve, he'll need a kidney transplant, but then again, if we don't find what's causing this, any kidney will be useless in him. He's crashed twice tonight. House needs to know that Chase might not make it."

Wilson considered what she had said. He was concerned for House if anything ever happened to anyone near him. House's team was the closest thing he had to friends or family, and every one of them was important to him. "Any luck finding his medical records?"

Cuddy looked up, "No luck. It's as if he's never been treated by any doctor here before."

"House may be able to get a hold of some records in Australia through Sanford's mother." Wilson looked over at Cuddy, it was apparent that she was near her breaking point and needed support. "Lisa, how are you doing?"

With that question, Cuddy started to cry. Wilson reached over and took her in his arms and caressed her. He could feel her warmth as she embraced him back and cried into his chest. It seemed as if it had been ages since he held a woman in his arms, and he missed it. Here, his other closest friend was in him embrace and was not backing away from him the way Julie had done for the past year and a half. He wanted this moment to last, or at least lead to something more. He hugged her tighter and whispered into her ear, "It's okay. We'll find what's wrong with Chase, fix him, and everything will be back to normal."

Cuddy sobbed some more as Wilson pulled his coat over her. "Lisa, it's okay. Chase will be okay. House will be okay. We'll fix him, make him better." Wilson caught the scent of her shampoo on her hair as he moved a stray strand of it out of her face. He moved her more so that she was engulfed in his embrace. He wanted to kiss her, he had always wanted to kiss her.

"What if we can't? What if…" she paused to consider her words when Wilson stopped her.

"We will." He moved his head down a little and kissed her dark hair lightly. This felt right to him, despite the fact that he had to go back and tell his best friend that Chase may not make it. House. There were times he felt House to be a burden. None of his wives ever accepted him. When House did something reckless, Wilson was the one who had to come and pick up the pieces. After Stacy left, Wilson was the one who came to keep House together. Wilson was the one that got House his job at PPTH. No one understood House's need for Wilson, except Cuddy.

Early on in his career at PPTH, a young Lisa Cuddy had gone head to head against him on a consult with a patient. She had been treating a young boy in the ER one night and wanted a second opinion on an x-ray of his arm. She thought she saw a lymphoma in an x-ray, so she paged oncology to send someone down. The doctor sent was Wilson. He took one look at it and stated otherwise. He took the x-ray down from the light, took Cuddy's arm, and brought her into an empty exam room. He made her take a closer look at it. Here, the boy decided to play a joke on the x-ray tech that night and put a button on the film under his arm where the break had occurred. The kid thought it was funny, and so did Wilson, but Cuddy was furious. Later that night, Wilson brought her coffee and they sat and talked. The rest of the shift was smooth sailing as they sat in an empty exam room and talked. He had had a crush on her ever since.

Wilson closed his eyes and hugged Cuddy tighter, "We'll save him." She had just fallen asleep in his arms, and he did not want this moment to end. He closed his eyes, he didn't care if anyone saw this scene or not, however, he knew Cuddy wouldn't want this to get around the hospital. He heard footsteps nearing the office; he tried to wake her up before…

"Sleeping with the enemy Wilson?" House came to work early. "Or playing doctor with the administrator your new thing?"

Wilson was thankful to some extent that Cuddy did not wake up. "She's exhausted."

"I didn't know you had _that_ much in you!"

"Why are you here anyway?"

House took a seat at Cuddy's desk and started going through the drawers. "Got bored, heard your pager. Knew that with you there you'd play secretary for me. Of course, it looks like you're doing the same with her," he motioned at Cuddy, still asleep in Wilson's arms.

Wilson rolled his eyes. "Give her a break. We need to talk." Cuddy moaned and moved in her sleep, burying her head deeper into Wilson's chest. He had to get House away from this office and into his own. He had to tell him about Chase. "Give me a few minutes and I'll be up. Meet me in my office."

"And miss all the fun? I want to see this."

Wilson sighed and shot House an angry glare. "You'll understand this," he motioned at Cuddy, "When I tell you why I'm here."

House seemed suddenly bored with the situation and left the office as he grunted, "I'll meet you upstairs."

Wilson looked down at the woman in his arms. He knew this was just a stolen moment. He knew she wasn't his, and probably never would be. She was the woman he secretly went back to during all of his marriages. He had always secretly wanted her, however, she would never give in to his demands. She always wanted the youngest toy she could find, but then she would always wonder why she could never find a serious relationship. He could be that for her, if she would only allow.

He caressed her hair as he whispered her name into her ear and gently asked her to wake up. He longed to do more, he always had. He remembered how before House had been dating Stacy; House, Wilson, and Cuddy would run wild, innocent all-nighters around Princeton's party spots. The three of them were a team. She was always there for him when a favorite patient died or House acted up and he had to fix him. She was the one he could always go to when he couldn't go to House. Even House knew to rely on Cuddy. But tonight, seeing her allow herself to be vulnerable. She didn't need him there to talk about House, she needed him there for this.

She moaned again as he whispered her name, "Lisa?"

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. "How long was I asleep?"

Wilson smiled. He wanted to tell her a falsehood, tell her it didn't matter, but he knew she needed the truth. "Only a couple of minutes. I need to go upstairs."

She sat up, woozy from the lack of sleep. She looked at Wilson and recognized the look on his face: House had seen them. She could always tell when Wilson had been disturbed by House. She valued the friendships she had developed with the two men, but had become annoyed with House after his Vicodin addiction changed him. Yet, she couldn't give up on him, and instead, insisted on keeping a closer eye on him for his own sake. However, tonight she knew she would be in for it after knowing that House had seen her in Wilson's arms. She rubbed the sleep from his eyes, "Tell him."


	13. Understanding

_Every Second_

A House Fan-Fic

by - entercreativename

Disclaimer: I am not the creator or owner of the characters mentioned in this story. I am instead a poor college student with no money and no hope of ever earning money. I wrote this story as a means of exploring the characters in the show; not for profit, notoriety, or other self-assuring means.

This histories in this story were written before episode 204 (TB or Not TB) and therefore will differ from episodes aired in November 2005 and later.

Keep those reviews coming in too! I'm working on ideas for another fic, and I need your help on grammer and development.

* * *

Chapter 13 - Understanding

Wilson proceeded upstairs to his office where he found House sitting in his chair reading a patient file. Wilson looked at him and asked, "We need to talk. And, since when are you interested in patients, especially _my_ patients?"

House looked at the file, "Give her benadryl and she'll feel worlds better."

"If that is the Kline woman, she's already tried that." Wilson walked over to his couch and sat down. "We need to talk, and this is serious."

House looked up at the ceiling. "If this is about Chase, I already know." He reached into his pocked and pulled out a small electronic device. "You took my pager by accident as you left this morning. I got up as you were pulling out. I already know about Chase crashing twice tonight. I already called Cuddy and talked to her. Nothing we can do but wait."

"Shut up House, this isn't you speaking."

"No, it actually is."

"If this was the real you, you'd be in his room with the entire pharmacy ready to be injected into him, and then the entire lab staff ready to draw blood. You'd be ready for every nurse to clean up something and to insult every doctor for not getting the diagnosis quick enough."

House smiled, "Oh, stop flattering me!"

"You shouldn't be on his case anymore."

"Have you seen Chase? Do you know what's happening to him? I'm his only hope. Had it been any other doctor in this hospital, he'd be dead by now."

"Have you even been near his room since he was admitted? Have you even seen him with your own eyes?"

House stopped. He knew Wilson was right. "You don't need to see the patient to treat the patient."

"No, you just send the other doctors in the hospital to do so. Do you have any idea how many more patients you could help if you just visited them right away?"

"It's not about the patients…"

"Then _what_ is it about?" Wilson cut off House abruptly. "You did take the same Hippocratic oath as I did, right? You did go to medical school, as I did too?"

House sat silently staring at the ceiling. He didn't want this. Ever since Chase had been admitted, Wilson had been acting differently, acting as if House should suddenly treat this patient differently from the other patients. He reached for his Vicodin.

"No drugs. Not until we finish this conversation." Wilson glared at House as he continued to take the bottle out of his pocket.

Wilson jumped off the couch and tore the medicine out of House's hand. "I need you to be sober for this conversation. I'm not the only one noticing this change in you."

"Change? You want to talk _change_?" House yelled. "How long have you known me? How long have you known _how_ I perform with patients. It's better to be in a different room so that you can think, the patients won't lie to you that way."

"Chase can't lie to you. Chase can't lie to anyone for that matter. Just go and look at him, see what you can see."

House glared at Wilson and made a grab for the Vicodin bottle.

"Greg, I don't want to turn this into bargaining for your meds, but you're not getting these until you agree to visit Chase and examine him."

"Foreman will supply me."

"No he won't, I won't let him."

"You know I'm in pain. Cameron will write for me."

"No she won't. Go see Chase."

House didn't want to admit defeat, but he also knew he needed what Wilson had taken from him. The only way out of this was to turn the tables back to Wilson. Why had he let Wilson get to him like this?

House stopped for a second and thought before saying, "Have you been in to see Chase?"

"He's not my patient." Wilson paused, "but I saw him yesterday afternoon. I was about to go in when I saw Sanford talking to him saying something about how she wished she could date him. It's early, you won't run into anyone there in his room right now, and Sanford and Cuddy have both probably gone home for awhile."

"Why are you so concerned?"

"Other than the fact that he's a student of my best friend? I've always thought that being with the patient helped me to focus on finding what's wrong. Of course, when a patient is terminal and we both know it, it's comforting for the patient to have their doctor there for them. In the end, it all comes down to compassion."

"I have compassion."

"You just won't show it, at least not the way everyone else does. That's why you never see the patient until the end. You refuse to show frustration with the compassion. You only talk to the patient when you know that you can finally cure them. You have a super-hero complex."

"Now you're putting me on the pedestal."

"What if you can't be the hero in this case?"

House had to think. What if he couldn't save Chase? What then? How would he react? He got up from Wilson's desk, walked over to Wilson, and took the Vicodin out of his hand. When he got to the door he purposely turned around, looked at Wilson, and opened his pill bottle saying, "I'm not a hero." He placed a Vicodin in his mouth, chewed it a little, and left for his office.

His leg was killing him by this point, and all he wanted to do was curl into a ball and cry from the pain. However, he had other pressing needs at the moment. He knew that everyone showed compassion in different ways. Some people went and silently helped someone without their act of good will ever being known. Others gave money anonymously and then boasting about it to everyone they could. He however, wanted to be known for something good. He had never really felt good about himself ever in his life. He knew that if he tried a little harder he could cure a patient on the first try, however, he looked better and smarter to the patient when he tried unorthodox methods and misdiagnosed the patients the first few tries. After awhile, he almost felt as if he was a god, saving the victims below from a harsh existence, the same harsh existence he was suffering from. God. That was an interesting analogy for himself; the Vicodin must be kicking in.

House walked over to his desk and started his iPod on some jazz ballads he had downloaded. He wanted to sleep, hang a sign on the door saying, "Do not disturb" and just let existence slip away for a while. He didn't necessarily want to die, but he was curious what it would feel like. However, he wasn't about to try: he wasn't depressed, just curious, and who isn't.

He sat down at his desk and took another Vicodin. He could always think better about the cases by taking the drug, he could more easily drown out his twisted version of compassion by doing so. He looked at Chase's chart and patterns began to make more sense. He closed his eyes, how much Vicodin had he really taken? He took out the bottle and saw that it wasn't his Vicodin, instead, Wilson had switched the pills out for Benadryl. No wonder his leg killed him. House cursed under his breath as he succumbed to the antihistamine flowing through his veins.


	14. Confrontations

Every Second

A House Fan-Fic

entercreativename

**Backstory**: Seeing it's been awhile since I've updated, I feel the need to give a brief synopsis. House can't sleep one night so he decides to prank-call some of his colleagues only to discover that Cuddy is over at Chase's apartment. When he gets to work, he decides to tease Cuddy for her late night "booty call" to discover that Chase is in a coma. We find out backstory for House, Chase, and Cameron, as well as meet a Linda Sanford who is both a psychiatrist at PPTH and an old friend of Chase's from Sydney. Sanford also happens to be the daughter of a brilliant doctor/teacher House had worked with in Australia as well. Throughout the story, Sanford withholds important clues to Chase's history and why he is in a coma and we watch the team, minus one member, deal with the emotional difficulty of their colleague being the patient of the week. We open this chapter with House having been tricked into taking Benadryl by Wilson so that House can sleep for awhile.

Chapter 14 - Confrontations

Wilson looked at the clock. It had been fifteen minutes since House had left his office, and he knew that House had taken at least one Benadryl since then. He felt guilty for switching the medications behind House's back, however, he knew that House both needed the sleep, and that Chase needed doctors who weren't as connected to him as House was at this point in time. And, it was really partially Cuddy's idea.

As Wilson had left the administrator's office earlier that night, she ran out and caught him before he could reach the elevators.

"James, wait!" she had yelled from behind him. He had turned around and went back to her office.

"What is it?"

"It's about talking to House; maybe you shouldn't do it. He's not functioning well on this case, at least not his normal way at least. I don't think he's helping it."

"You're right, it's not. He hasn't been himself at all. I've caught him deep in thought more often lately, and I know it's not about Chase's case."

"Yes. His relationship and history with Chase are distracting him. I want to pull him from it, but I know we can't."

Wilson looked at Cuddy silently and then said, "Maybe there is a way."

"What are you thinking?"

"He barely slept last night, and I know I woke him when I came over."

"He didn't sleep the night before either. If we could just get him some sleep, it will help him and Chase."

"I have an idea…"

And thus Wilson and Cuddy devised the plan to get House to finally sleep. Wilson felt guilty about tricking his friend, however, he knew that House would do the same for him should he ever be in the same situation. He walked into House's office suite and saw him asleep in his chair with Chase's file in his hands unopened. He snuck in, closed the blinds to dim the room, took the file from House, and went into the conference room. Just as he sat down at a desk in the corner, Foreman walked in.

Foreman looked over at Wilson and then at the silhouette of his boss asleep in his office and back at Wilson.

"I wouldn't wake him if I were you." Wilson cautioned Foreman.

Foreman shook his head and walked over to the hat-tree. He didn't want to come close to knowing the inner workings of House's personal life, or Wilson's for that matter. "Why not?"

"He's finally getting some sleep."

Foreman went into his briefcase and just tried to ignore Wilson and House. He had learned early on, especially from Cameron, to expect certain oddities from those two doctors. However, the oddities still got to him at times. Like now. Why on earth would anyone sleep at work while they were on a case like this one? Unprofessional. Of course, a number of things they did there in that department would be considered a lot worse than what House was doing now.

House snorted in his sleep, Foreman winced in disgust.

"What is his problem?" Foreman asked Wilson.

"Excuse me?"

"House. I've gotten used to the way he acts, but this week is just different. What's up with him?"

Wilson stopped going through the files just long enough to shoot Foreman the look. "I don't really see _why_ you're complaining."

Foreman sighed. "Don't you see? He's in his office. _Sleeping!_ Now, I've seen a lot from House, and he's suddenly facing a case that involves someone he's working with, and he chooses now to suddenly not perform."

Wilson shot Foreman another glance. "He is responsible for you professionally. Don't you think that he realizes that? Now, he is in charge of you and Cameron while trying to not only figure out what happened to Chase, but trying to do so without his help. The least you could do is try to be a little sensitive to him here."

"Sensitive? You're kidding me, right?"

Wilson shot another glance just as a nurse entered the room and announced, "BP is back up, and creatinine and urea are just above normal. Patient is becoming more lucid, but still comatose."

With that, Wilson stood up and excused himself to go check on Chase and other patients leaving Foreman alone in the office. With the area abandoned, sans the sleeping House, Foreman had nothing else to do but to clean a little. He got to the area near the whiteboard when suddenly he tripped, taking the board as a casualty of the accident. He swore and started to pick up the mess just as a grouchier than normal House emerged groggy from his office.

"Look, it was an accident."

House gave Foreman a wordless look of conceit. He was tired, angry, and just wanted to sleep. Foreman took House's silent response to mean that he was actually angry at him.

"I'll clean it up, run, and get a new one."

House closed his eyes with a pained expression and held up his hand as he thought of what to say. "You're not allowed, to touch the board," was all he could think of through the cloud of Benadryl in his brain. He sat down and watched Foreman clean up the broken board in front of him. "It'll go faster if you get a broom and dustpan Jeeves!"

That had been it, Foreman had finally taken one last insult. "Why do you keep doing this?" he asked.

"Because it's easier to keep you around than a hooker - try bringing _that_ to the office once!"

"No, that's not it," Foreman put the last of the broken pieces in the garbage and walked over to where House had his feet up on the conference room table, red sucker in his mouth. "Why do you always act so arrogant, conceited, and make us do all the work?"

"How else will you learn?" House answered simply, accentuating the answer with a quick "pop" from the sucker leaving his mouth. "You see my _good_ student, you are here to learn how to be a doctor…" House trailed for a moment in thought, "…and my maid, and my personal assistant. Do I need to continue?"

Foreman gave him a look that could kill as House took his cane and limped out of the office suite away, probably to the chapel to watch television or something. He went back to finishing cleaning up. Why, how, did he manage to break this whiteboard? Just as he was reaching into a corner, Cameron showed up and laughed.

"What are you doing?" she asked. She had reason to as well; at the moment, Foreman looked like a squirrel burying its prized nutty treasure in the ground for winter.

"Great, now you laugh at me too." Foreman stood and addressed Cameron.

"Well, it's not everyday you see your coworkers digging in the corner." Cameron stopped for a moment, realizing that something was missing. "Where's the board?"

Foreman sighed and explained to her what happened. She laughed, which further annoyed him, smiled, and then said, "Eric, relax. We're all having a tough couple of days, you need to lighten up." She motioned for Foreman to sit down. "Let me get you some coffee or something."

"I just don't get it Allison. Everyday of this fellowship, I've come to work, and I've been used in every way possible by House. I've broken into homes for him, I've taken his abuse, hell, I've even covered him when he tried to detox for that week. I'm sick and tired of being the one responsible for House. Why did he even hire me?"

Cameron took a sip of her coffee after giving Foreman his cup and then sitting down to think. "With that question, you may as well as why did House hire any of us?"

"Why did he?"

"Beats me."

The two colleagues sat in silence until Cameron spoke up, "Why did you accept this placement?"

Foreman sat and though for a moment. He had been happy out in California, and coming to New Jersey meant leaving his girlfriend on the east coast. "I thought that it would be prestigious. House had been a big name in the journals when I was in med school. By coming here, I thought it would be the best way to pursue my career."

"Then House hired you to teach you the opposite." With that, Cameron finished her coffee and stood up; Foreman looked frustrated and puzzled. "Look, hard as it may seem, we both know that he is going to push us in a way we don't want to be pushed. Why else does he force me to be the bearer of bad news?"

Foreman still looked puzzled, "You've been speaking to Wilson lately?"

Cameron blushed a little and said, "By the way, labs are back on Chase. He's improving but still in a coma. I just don't get why though. It's as if…"

"…he's taken a medication we don't know about." House finished Cameron's thought and walked in, Sanford following closely behind.

Foreman gave him a look. "What are you saying?"

"Our _genius_ psychiatrist here just told me that our Aussie friend here had been talking with his GP down under."

Foreman and Cameron looked at House in disbelief, and then Cameron spoke up, "So, we know who to get his medical records from?"

"Yes. You Cameron, call up a Henry Winkler in Sydney, Sanford has his number. Foreman, how does Chase get to work?"

Sanford stepped forward, "He drove the other day, but I brought him home afterwards, he had a headache."

House gave Sanford another annoyed look. For being the daughter of a doctor he admired, he thought that just maybe some of those genetics would have carried down a generation. "Foreman, check his car."

Cameron looked up from the phone, "But I thought he always took the bus."

"Ego probably wouldn't let him. Blond hair you know." House retorted quickly. "Well, let's get moving people. Foreman, I'm down with you on this. Page me when you've found his car."

With that, Foreman left the suite, further disgusted, while Cameron and Sanford attempted to get through to Australia on the phone.


	15. Hidden Inhibitions

Every Second

A House Fan-Fic

entercreativename

author's note: I am not the creator or owner of the characters mentioned in this story. I am instead a poor college student with no money or no hope of money. I wrote this story as a means of exploring the characters in the show, not for profit, notoriety, or other self-assuring means.

Chapter 15 - Hidden Inhibitions

Foreman walked for what seemed like hours around the PPTH campus, wondering why he refused to get a rental car for this week. He knew House would at some point send him on some "mission" that would involve him driving around to spy on their patient, but he thought he would just drive with Chase for once. Who would have ever thought that he would be looking for Chase's car to spy on him? He continued up the parking ramp, looking for the car.

The parking garage had been the fifth and final place Foreman decided to look. Chase never parked in this garage, ever. There was not enough security to park in this place, unless he was desperate for a parking spot close to the hospital. If he hadn't been feeling well, then he could understand Chase parking in this garage. Even though it had easy access to the building, protection from the weather, and it was close to the entrance nearest Diagnostic Medicine, it was the last place Chase would have parked.

Just as Foreman was about to give up on finding his coworker's Mercedes, luck landed him right in front of the car. He reached for his phone and called House, letting him know the location of the car. Many times he had ridden in this car with Chase, and each time he secretly envied him for this car. It wasn't just a car, it was the car that he had wanted since he was six. He remembered every time that Chase had mentioned that he never had the money to do what he wanted, and that his father was the rich one. Forget that, the Mercedes spoke of the direct connection to money.

Foreman sat on a bench and rested for a moment. He knew that House wouldn't let him open the car without him. House loved breaking the law more than anyone else, and Foreman could just imagine him in his pre-infarction days of sneaking into patients' houses to find valuable clues to the diagnosis. It was a risky endeavor that often paid off with great rewards to the case, or at least, that's what House wanted them to think. He knew deep down that House just enjoyed defying convention. He sat for a couple of moments trying to ignore the exhaust fumes in the garage when he heard the familiar limp of his boss approaching.

"Judging by Chase's car I'm paying the three of you too much."

"You can dream all you like about cutting our wages, or skimming off the top in your case, but this is all Daddy's money in front of us."

"Well, old car, new car, doesn't matter. All that matters is I've got the key." House clicked the unlock button on the remote. "Wanna go for a spin, or is that just not cool in the hood?"

"Not likely." Foreman said disapprovingly. He could tell House was either impressed or envious of Chase's car. He headed towards the trunk as House sat behind the wheel.

"How much do one of these cost?"

Foreman stopped searching. "Like it really matters. Besides, you have that Corvette, or something, from those mob guys last year. Right?"

"That's not the point."

Foreman rolled his eyes, annoyed with House, and kept looking for any clues. "And you have your motorcycle. What have you found up there?"

"Stones, Ricky Lee Jones, you?"

"Nothing, no wait. I found his overnight bag." Foreman took out a black duffle bag from the trunk of the car while House vacated the driver's so he could limp back to see.

"Well, open it." House said like a kid waiting for his mother to open her Christmas present from him.

As Foreman opened it, two medication bottles fell out and started rolling away.

"Well, get them." House ordered as he continued to dig through the bag.

"Huh. Lisodur 20 mg? Marketed by AlphaPharm?"

House stopped what he was doing and looked quizzically at Foreman. "Widely prescribed in Australia. ACE-inhibitor. The Aussie equivalent of Lisinopril. He's on the highest dosage. I didn't know I caused him that much trouble."

Foreman looked at House. "The other bottle is empty, and looking at the label, it's been empty for awhile."

"That doesn't matter. What is it?"

"Levaquin 500 mg."

"The pharmacy for the Lisodur, where is it out of?"

"Sydney. Dated two weeks ago."

"He hasn't been to Sydney lately. Which pharmacy was it?"

"Sydney Rx Direct. Prescribing doctor is a Henry Winkler."

"Who prescribed the Levaquin?"

"Also Winkler."

House stared at the bottles. It made sense. "We need to get Chase on intravenous angiotensin II."

"Of course. Chase had been taking the ACE inhibitor for hypertension for awhile now, but..."

House looked over at Foreman who tried to continue but started to flounder. "I'll tell you. He had been on the ACE inhibitor since before leaving Australia. Then, he had a small cold, which turned into an infection. One we didn't know about since he hid it from us. He called up ol' Winkler who prescribed Levaquin for him. The Levaquin dehydrated him, which made the Lisodur stronger than normal. BP dropped. Continued dehydration made the other side effects kick in and now he's lying in a coma in our hospital under our care."

Foreman was impressed. "I'll go ahead back."

"Good, let me know if his condition improves. I'll be out here to make sure nothing happens to the car." House watched Foreman run off back into the hospital and smiled coyly. He had alone time in the parking garage with the very new and very expensive car of one of the fellows under his tutelage. He took the keys out of his pocket, put the duffle bag back in the trunk, and walked towards the driver's seat. He figured he had some time to kill before anything started to take effect. _And am I going to enjoy this._


	16. Awakening

**_Every Second_**

A House Fan-Fic

entercreativename

author's note: I am not the creator or owner of the characters mentioned in this story. I am instead a poor college student with no money or no hope of money. I wrote this story as a means of exploring the characters in the show, not for profit, notoriety, or other self-assuring means.

* * *

Chapter 16 - Awakening

House, being thoroughly amused at his recent adventure in Chase's expensive Mercedes convertible, arrived back at his office rather pleased. He had solved Chase's case, found his history, and managed to stay out of the clinic for a couple of days. One thing had been bothering him though. Since hiring Chase, he had never been able to tell if Chase had recognized him or not from that day in Sydney. Not that it mattered, but he wondered at times and wanted to know.

He stood outside Chase's room and looked around. No one really saw him standing there. This was good, no one would know how much he actually cared. He took one more look around to make sure no one was watching and walked into the room.

Inside, a still-comatose Chase was in bed. It looked as if he was asleep, aside from the monitors around him beeping. House hated visiting his patients, it always reminded him of how close to death he had been at one time, and how he actually welcomed it to come. To this day, he wished it would have.

He noticed the blinds were open. Cameron must have done that. He also noticed the flowers scattered about the room from various nurses, and the biggest bouquet from Cameron as well as several stuffed animals. _If she could only have seen those used condoms at his place_, House thought as he closed the blinds between the hallway and Chase's room. He could never understand how a hospital could legally have glass walls, even though it made for some fun at times. He figured though, that at this point, Chase would want his privacy, and some semblance of dignity.

Dignity. He remembered a patient once telling him that she wanted to die with dignity. There really was no such thing when it came to the infirm and the dying. "Bodies break down.." he told her, "…sometimes when we're 90, sometimes before we're even born, but it always happens and there's never any dignity in it. I don't care if you can walk, see, wipe your own ass. It's always ugly, always. You can live with dignity, we can't die with it." That was ages ago it seemed. Even trying to prank-call Chase seemed like ages ago. He really did care.

He walked closer to the bed, noting that the ventilator had been removed and Chase was breathing on his own, which was a good sign. He took a chair from the corner and moved it close to the bed and looked at Chase. House closed his eyes and thought for a moment; visions of seeing then boy-Chase in front of him in Australia came flooding into his mind. For once he really didn't know what to say, but he figured he should try as this may be the only time he could get the issue off his chest.

House looked down at Chase, not knowing how to start, and then he finally found something. "You probably wonder why I hired you." He stopped, almost expecting a response from the boy, now man, lying in front of him.

"I hired you because I saw potential in you. I saw issues too, but I first saw potential, and I see that in you, I see that in Cameron, and I see that in Foreman. Difference is that I first saw it in you in 1991 in Sydney.

"It was the end of my own fellowship when I first met you. You were still a boy, young, and you came into my exam room and out-witted and controlled me. Never before that day had I followed through on my own ethics, it had always been society's ethics that I had to follow. That day was the first time I knew that I needed to follow up on you."

It was becoming easier. It was like writing in his blog, but he knew his audience didn't hear what he was saying. He looked up for a moment and saw the IV-angiotensin II was almost empty. If he was correct about his diagnosis, he needed to finish what he was saying soon so Chase wouldn't know he cared.

"You almost got me fired you know, actually, you did get me fired. That day, after you fled the clinic, your father came out and ordered me to his office where I was made to feel six inches tall. Oh, centimeters in Aussie speak. And I looked at him and told him exactly what I thought of him, and he told me what he thought of you. At that point, I knew. I saw myself as you. We are identical, and I don't want you to turn into me.

"We both have fathers who don't care, and by hiring you, I wanted you to be like my son, and I like a father. I'll never have children, I'll never live the dream that everyone tries to live. Who am I kidding? My life is this hospital and the patients that enter it, my body is damaged, and I am vulnerable beyond all belief. I don't want that for you. You need to love someone, anyone, and soon before you become old and bitter, hating the world and looking forward to the day you die, just so you can end the suffering that has become your life."

House stopped and hoped that Chase hadn't heard it. But then, he also wanted Chase to know this, he wanted Chase to know that he cared.

"The three of you have confronted me about how I treat each of you, and, to be quite frank, I try to tell myself that it is tough-love of sorts. How else will you learn? That's how I learned from your father. I know there's a better way, but it's too late for me to figure out something else. I just want the three of you to be the best doctors and diagnosticians that you can, and I know that each of you will, with help from me of course.

"For a majority of my professional life, I have lived under the influence of your father. I tried to be him. It drove me nuts that no matter how hard I tried, I was not that man. I even lost sleep over it.

"I guess what I'm trying to say and do is to find out if you really do remember that day back in Sydney?"

House stopped and realized he had just asked a question to a comatose man. He closed his eyes and considered getting up. Foreman and Cameron were probably trying to find him, and he left his pager turned off, and he really didn't want to be found here in Chase's hospital room talking to him while he was unconscious.

"I remember."

Two simple words aroused House from his concentrated thought.

"What did you say?" House was in disbelief. Not only did Chase just wake up, but he remembered.

"I said I remembered. How did I get here?"

House looked at him and told him an exaggerated and fanciful version of what really happened; he knew Cameron and Foreman would really tell him the truth the next time they saw him. House ended with the question "So you remember?"

"Of course. I've felt guilty about getting you fired ever since. Then you hired me here, and I wasn't as worried, except I wondered if you hired me to get back at me. Thank you."

"For what?" House was puzzled. None of his coworkers ever thanked him. They usually just sneered about owing something to House when they needed something back in return. Hearing Chase thank him really hit House in ways he hadn't expected.

"Thank you for hiring me, thank you for saving me, and thank you for not firing me because of my father."

"I learned what I could from him. However, I do need to learn some things from you." House reached over and took Chase's chart from the end of his bed. Chase had managed to fill in House's questions and need for his history as accurately as possible after waking from a coma. However, there was more.

"I'm not finished yet Robert. I need to know who you are dating."

Chase had a puzzled look on his face. He didn't know why House needed to know, and he thought it wasn't his place to ask why. He swallowed hard and decided to ask the question anyway, even though he had heard House bear his soul to him, "Why do you need to know whom I am dating?"

House looked at him and said, "Curiosity."

Just at that moment, Foreman and Cameron came in, cheering that Chase was awake again. House looked at the two of them and left in silence with a small smile on his face. Chase was right, he really didn't need to ask to know that Chase was dating Sanford all along, especially after reading it in his diary he pilfered from Chase's overnight bag without anyone else knowing.

There was one more person he wanted to know more from.

With a smile on his face, he headed up to the office of his new favorite psychiatrist.


	17. Her Stories

_Every Second_

A House Fan-Fic

entercreativename

author's note: I am not the creator or owner of the characters mentioned in this story. I am instead a poor college student with no money or no hope of money. I wrote this story as a means of exploring the characters in the show, not for profit, notoriety, or other self-assuring means.

* * *

Chapter 17 - Her Stories

House smiled to himself as he limped toward the elevator. He knew what happened to Chase, and he knew Chase was going to be okay. Now it was time to visit a certain psychiatrist upstairs. He shuddered for a moment; he always hated visiting the psych ward. There was just something about the place that always got to him, and he could never figure out just what. Then, as he limped on further, he was reminded of the definition of insanity from his undergrad psych professor: the continuance of a negative behavior without change that receives the same negative result. Wilson often argued that at times against House, but House knew Wilson always caved into his rationale. Of course the other definition of insanity happened to fit him as well: a degree of mental illness that negates criminal culpability.

House kept walking, hearing patients screaming at phantoms that were not there, nerved by the fact that there was indeed a fate worse than what his leg had destined him for. At the end of the hallway he paused before a door that read, "Dr. Linda Sanford, Department of Psychiatry." He really didn't want to stay in this department for long, but he felt the need to catch her off-guard.

He saw she was with a patient - perfect timing. He popped an extra Vicodin for bravery and waited for it to kick in. One he was confident that he was ready, he opened the door and said, "I need a consult."

Sanford looked up from writing her notes; her patient in tears already. "Can't you see I'm with a patient? Haven't you heard of ethics?"

House smiled and innocently said, "Oops," as he turned around and exaggerated a limping motion back to the door with exasperated grunting sounds to make it seem as if he was in pain.

Sanford grimaced from watching House and, calling his name, offered him a chair. With his back turned to her, he smiled knowingly and kindly thanked her. He loved to play the "cripple" trick on people, especially those he didn't like. As he turned around to take the chair offered to him, he noticed Sanford motion for her patient to leave as she handed her a card.

"That appointment card trick really doesn't work."

"It's worked so far Dr. House, have a seat." She smiled back at him as he noted her using his proper title before his name. _She knows she's in her territory; I need to be extra careful now._

Sanford looked over House with inquisitive eyes. She too anticipated the game House was about to play. What she didn't understand was why he chose to play the game on her territory. He smiled at her, she felt uneasy, but she also didn't want to give that feeling away. She refused to let House beat her while in her office. "What brings you here Dr. House?"

House continued to smile with the most cunning smile he could muster. "Chase is awake. Thought you'd like to know."

Sanford assessed his answer carefully. She didn't like him, and she knew he didn't like her. It was dangerous for her to have him in the office, away from plain sight of others. She knew that he would play the game with her until she gave in and lost. "Thanks for telling me. I'll have to go visit him."

"What do you know about Chase? Beyond what you haven't told us yet?"

Sanford once again carefully crafted her response. She wanted her privacy, and she didn't want her private life pulled into the basket of hospital gossip that made its rounds regularly. "What do you mean? I have told you what you've needed to know from what I know about the situation."

House smiled back at her remark, the smile unnerving Sanford in ways she didn't know possible. House remarked back, "I need to know more, for my report."

Sanford knew he was up to something. She had heard second-hand that House never filed his paperwork or kept up with his reports, and she made sure to tell him that. However, House was not satisfied with that answer as he asked, "Do you know why we as doctors need to take a patient's history?"

Sanford looked at him, she of course knew why as she had been to med school as well.

House continued, "We take histories so that we can find out what is wrong with the patient and then treat accordingly. Thankfully, I figured that you would lie. Everyone lies, so don't worry, you're not alone. However, there have been numerous things you have lied about. While I understand the fact that you do not want information about your personal life dragged about the hospital, you kinda need to know that withholding information from a department head about the medical history of his patient is kinda grounds for a disciplinary hearing, which Cuddy will fill you in on later. However, I still need to know something."

Sanford sighed. She really didn't want her private life known to the entire hospital, and now it would have to be due to the mistakes of withholding it from the hospital. "What is it House? You've ruined me already, so you might as well drag me through the mud while your at it?"

House in his years of wisdom answered, "You ruined yourself by not telling me of Chase's medications. Had we known he was on Lisodur, we would have been able to administer the IV-angiotensin II right away, and Chase would have recovered faster."

"He's awake, so he's recovered." She realized she said that without looking House in his eyes. That was a mistake she would regret, it showed that he was winning. The other mistake was her slumping down in the chair, and House saw both as he stood up and walked over towards her. He got close, close enough for her to smell his deodorant, and he sat next to her on the couch in her office, and smiled coyly at her. She knew she had just lost the argument.

House leaned in closely to her ear and gently said, "It's okay. I can make it a lot easier for you if you tell me what you know. I can say you were nervous and scared. You didn't want your love for him to be known. I'm obviously going to have to testify. "

Sanford closed her eyes in disgust and tilted her head forward in defeat. She can't believe she let him win in her office. She can't believe he was acting as charming as he was at the moment. She was almost turned on. "I'll tell you what I know, but it really isn't much.

"Chase and I did grow up together in Australia. He would come by his father's house once in awhile, where his mother-in-law would baby-sit me. We went our separate ways in high school. Then, come college, he went off to seminary and I went to a private school. I ran into him one Christmas and convinced him to come to college with me. He did and went pre-med right away. That same year, he had another, more devastating, fight with his father. He got sick shortly thereafter and saw Dr. Winkler. He had a kidney infection, which was treated with antibiotics and he was in the hospital for a week. They think it caused the high blood pressure."

House looked away, scarring from the infection could have done that - kidneys were sensitive things after all. "Anything else medically relevant?"

"Mother was an alcoholic, father died of cancer last year. Other than that, no."

House sat in silence for a moment. He had found out what he really needed to know, but there was still more. "Have the two of you been having romantic relations?" He looked over at Sanford and could tell that he had hit a sensitive issue.

"Yes." She knew she wasn't really allowed the luxury of silence for an answer. "We've been dating for just over two weeks. He got me the job here, and we contacted each other again."

House smiled again, hiding the blow he was about to give her. "I hate to be the one to tell you this, but Wilson and I found used condoms in his apartment."

Sanford sighed. "He had broken up with his girlfriend recently after getting caught cheating on her with Cameron. They were probably from them. If you're going to ask her name, don't bother as I don't know. She had a key for the apartment, but gave it back. Robert thinks she may have made copies of the key. He's been a little paranoid since the breakup, and I already know I'm the rebound girl."

With that House smiled at Sanford, and walked out of her office.


	18. Of Alarm Clocks

_Every Second_

A House Fan-Fic

entercreativename

author's note: I am not the creator or owner of the characters mentioned in this story. I am instead a poor college student with no money or no hope of money. I wrote this story as a means of exploring the characters in the show, not for profit, notoriety, or other self-assuring means.

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Chapter 18 - Of Alarm Clocks

Tick, tick, tick, tick…. House once again lay in bed late at night, listening to the endless ticking of his alarm clock, trying to sleep. He turned and moaned in his attempt at sleep when he finally gave in to being awake for the rest of the night. 4:32 am, and he went to bed at 12:30; what happened to the hours between one and three? He rationalized the thought for a moment and realized that at least he was able to get some sleep.

As much as he was willing to admit he disliked work, he was unwilling to admit that the statement fit within the realm of his prime belief: everybody lies. Nights like this he realized how much he needed a case to function normally. Last night, before he and his team specifically knew what happened to Chase, he slept like he hadn't slept in awhile. His brain was active. But tonight, without a new case and Chase officially recovering in the hospital, waiting to be able to go home in a few hours, he realized how much he needed to remain mentally active. If he couldn't really compete in sports anymore due to his leg, and without an active relationship, his mind had to fill in the lack of activity in his life.

He willed himself and his leg, as it had seem to become more of a separate entity in the last few years, up from what little sleep remained to fog his brain. He was tired, and he needed something to do. He walked into the living room - noticing his neighbors were awake and thus would not, should not, complain if he played piano. He sat down at the bench and put his hands to the keys feeling the smoothness of the ivory beneath. He knew it wasn't really ivory, but plastic made to look and feel the same. As he played a few notes, he began to realize how long it had been since he had last played; he could feel the dust that had gathered on the keys now sticking to his fingers. As much as he hated to clean, the feeling of the dust kept him from really enjoying the moment of self-satisfaction. At times this was better than sex.

_Chase has survived, thanks to you._

House stopped and shook himself back to reality when that though had hit his mind like a train on a collision course with death. Had he really resolved his issues with Chase? He knew he had always respected the young man, but knew that now he had told him so, their professional relationship would change. Of course, he realized it would change anyway as having your boss save your life would often do that. Did Chase really pull through just because of him? No, probably not, but his subconscious would take the credit anyway.

_He now knows what you really think._

At this point, House plunged his hand into his pocket and took two Vicodin. He did not need to be reminded that one of his team now knew what he actually thought of them. It was bad enough that Wilson knew. But now, he showed his vulnerability to everyone and that was something he was not ready to admit to anyone, let alone himself. He put his hands back on the keys of the piano, trying to coax the sound from the silent keys. Nothing came.

Frustrated with his inability to sleep and his inability to occupy his mind, House gave up. He closed the lid to the piano and decided to get ready for work.

House looked at his watch as he walked into the deserted office suite: 6:24 am. Why was he this early? Reassessing the situation, the rational part of his mind (left still functional despite the Vicodin) answered: _You have work to do_.

He closed his eyes as he walked further, thankful for the fact that no one was there yet, thankful for the fact that he did not yet need to address the change in dynamics of the relationships he would face in little more than an hour, and now pondering how to roll back time to what his relationship with Chase and his underlings had been. Admitting to the intensivist what he really thought had been a mistake in his mind, but a mistake he needed to make to become a better man.

He sat down to think, Gameboy in hand.

What seemed like minutes later, but in fact was a couple of hours, House was startled by a knock on the door. "Didn't think you'd be here, but I guess you are." Wilson. "Let me guess, you couldn't sleep?"

House responded with a knowing glance directed at his friend's eyes.

"Well, if you're up to it, you have a visitor."

House looked up at Wilson again, "Who?"

"Chase."

"Didn't know he was up and about yet."

"The nurses told me Cuddy cleared him for release today, if he hasn't be let out yet." Wilson moved further towards House. "I know what you told him..."

House grunted. _Great, days of avoiding him and everyone still knows._

"…and I think you're a better man for doing so." Wilson smiled at House and left a pause for his friend to answer.

House took his cane and stood up, "We both know the flaw in that."

"Want to go out tonight?"

"Sure, but you need to ditch that Volvo - girls just don't like that sorta thing."

"Fine, you pick me up with the 'vette. Six."

"Julie?"

"Kinda."

As House was about to show Wilson out, another knock greeted him from the door, this time accompanied by a pair of Australian accents.

"Is it a bad time?" Chase asked from the wheelchair pushed by Sanford.

"He's all yours." Wilson motioned the young intensivist in as he and Sanford left the two men alone, the younger one thanking him.

House looked down at Chase, wanting to ask, but thinking instead, _Why are you here?_ He was used to getting thanked by patients once they were finally cleared of the final diagnosis and allowed to heal with his underlings watching over them. However, for the first time in his life, he didn't know if he could get used to having someone under his tutelage thank him for doing his job.

"I don't know what to say to you." House said to Chase.

"I figured you wouldn't, and that's okay." Chase always believed that some things couldn't be expressed in words. "I know that you're expecting me to thank you, and I am."

House breathed heavily, his discomfort weighing.

"I am humble at what you have done for me, and I know that it was in fact, 'just your job,' however, I do need to thank you. Not just for saving me this week, but for allowing me to see my father back in Sydney, and for the job here in the States. You are a much better person than you allow yourself to think."

House, now humbled, just stared back Chase in embarrassment.

"I want you to have this as a token of goodwill, _and_ I want you to know that I do not expect you to treat me any different."

"I won't." House said as he took the small gift from Chase's hands. It was small, and he hadn't noticed it before in Chase's lap in the wheelchair. He restrained himself as he opened it so as not to let Chase know how grateful he really was for the gift.

As House cleared the final wrappings off the box, he saw what it was: a brand new digital alarm clock. He looked at Chase.

"It's not secret around the hospital, and especially from Wilson, that you cannot sleep. Hopefully, a quieter alarm clock will help."

House looked back at the gift in his hands, the frown permanently ingrained on his face changing slightly. He was humbled. Chase started to wheel out of the office, anticipating a restful week at Sanford's apartment when House, regaining his composure, stopped him. "You know, you can't keep all of this from us."

Chase stopped and wheeled around. "All of what?"

"This." House motioned towards the wheelchair. "You need to tell us some things about yourself, you need to tell us part of who you really are."

"Easier for you to say than to do, huh Dr. House? You've pretended not to care ever since you met me…"

"That's not true and you know it."

"Prove it."

"I hired you."

"You haven't cared beyond that point."

"I have."

"Then why do you act this way?"

House stopped for a moment to consider the young man's point. "What, you haven't heard of 'tough love?'"

Chase swallowed hard, a lump rising in his throat. He knew House was right at some levels, and yet he knew House was also unwilling to really admit the truth to the people he truly cared for. As Sanford and a nurse came to wheel Chase out to her car, he motioned for her to stop for the moment. "Dr. House, everybody lies."

House was left to the silence of his office; Cameron and Foreman were down in the clinic, filling in hours for House's absence. He surprised himself sometimes: he was still able to feel for other people. He sighed again and sat back down at his desk, the new alarm clock in his hand. He looked closer at the back and saw an engraving, "To Dr. House, the only parental figure in my life who seems to care. Thank you. Robert Chase."


	19. In the Evening

_Every Second_

A House Fan-Fic

entercreativename

author's note: I am not the creator or owner of the characters mentioned in this story. I am instead a poor college student with no money or no hope of money. I wrote this story as a means of exploring the characters in the show, not for profit, notoriety, or other self-assuring means.

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Chapter 19 - In the Evening

House, still humbled from his encounter with Chase earlier in the day, drove up to the front of the hospital in his corvette. He loved that car more than he could ever love any woman, even Stacy. He sighed; he knew he would never be over her. He looked in the rearview mirror to smooth out his hair a bit just as Wilson ran out with his overcoat and briefcase. New Jersey was cold in the winter.

"Same place, right House?"

House responded by revving the engine a couple of times.

"You sure are quiet lately."

"Shady, my hooker from last week,told me to try it."

"And since when have you actually done what she's said?"

They drove to the bar in silence, House watching the roads and the fresh snow that created a treacherous drive and Wilson watching House just to see how he could judge him now that the ordeal with Chase was over.

The evening went well, in true Housian fashion. Both men were drunk, and enjoying themselves a little too much when Wilson looked at the clock.

"House, it's getting late, we still have work tomorrow."

"No, one more for old time's sake."

Wilson sat down at the bar and ordered another round for the two of them. After the drinks came, and Wilson tried to get House to for once pay for his own alcohol, Wilson spoke up, the alcohol making him tipsy and keeping his thoughts from being inhibited.

"You know House, you need to resolve this problem with Chase."

House stopped mid-swallow. "And we were having such a good time."

"I'm serious House. You need to resolve this."

House thought for a moment. He knew he wanted to through a quick-witted response to keep Wilson from knowing what he was really thinking, however, he also knew that Wilson would keep interrogating him until he finally confessed to what he was thinking. A swallow of beer later and House responded, "That means revealing more to him than I am willing to do."

"Reveal what?" Wilson laughed in disbelief, "He knows you view him as your son."

"Then that's already too much for him to know."

Wilson took his friend's shoulder, swinging the barstool around and looked directly into his eyes, "Talk to him."

"I at least owe him the privacy that he deserves."

"So that's a no?"

House raised his beer to Wilson in an affirmative gesture.

"If you were in his place, you'd want to know."

Wilson's comment stopped House, and the older man knew he had to think. "If I was in his place, all I'd want was tough love and space to become my own man, and that's exactly what I intend to do. Every second that I interfere in his life is another second that he is reminded of the influence his father had on me and that he had on him. He doesn't need that. He needs to know that he can be who he wants to be, not a copy of his father. I'll be here for him if he wants to know, all he needs to do is ask, but I'll leave that for him to do."

Wilson sighed a sigh of acceptance. He knew not to try to get more out of House than this, and this was already more than House would normally admit. Remembering the Vicodin script he rewrote for House, he brushed the answer off as that. "I'm going home House. Do you have a way home?"

House looked back down at the drink in front of him and said his goodbyes for the night. He had done his job, saved the man that was like his son, and now it was time to let that boy become the man he really was. He closed his eyes, picked up the drink, and swallowed the last of it as Wilson tipped the bartender and motioned for each of them that it was time to go home. Snow was falling outside, and it was turning into another dark, cold night in Princeton. Time to go home, throw away his old alarm clock, and finally get a decent night's sleep in the silence of the beauty of his new digital alarm clock compliments of Robert Chase.


End file.
